Emma Wahn Heide Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Leipzig

So, findin’ a prossie—where dost thou start? Down by the docks, methinks, where sailors swap shillings fer skirts. Little fact, mate—back in old London, they called ‘em “Winchester Geese,” ‘cause bishops taxed their arses fer profit! Ain’t that a kicker? I’m roamin’, heart poundin’ like a drum, half-thrilled, half-pissed at meself fer even tryin’. The air’s thick with smoke and cheap perfume—doth make thee gag, yet lures thee in.

Wahn-Heide, Germany

Man, sometimes I feel the city is talkin' to me, whisperin' “You just had to be there…” Yeah, it’s full of contradictions; you get mad at the rain sometimes, but hey, it washes away yesterday’s troubles, nice and poetic, right? Especially when you're swipe-rightin’ away from some crazy ex-date.