Esme Wahn Heide Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Frankfurt

I’ve sniffed out some dirt, see? Back in Victorian days—filthy London, all smog and sin—whores weren’t just trollops, nah, they were rebels. Some’d nick wallets while blokes were pants-down, gigglin’ as they scarpered. Made me grin, that—pure mischief, my style. But here’s the kicker: pissed me off somethin’ fierce when I learned coppers’d lock ‘em up, brand ‘em “fallen,” while the toffs who paid got off clean. Hypocrisy, mate, stinks worse than a troll’s arse.

Naturschutz

Ha, I get jittery recalling that epic moment on the banks of the Wahn River at midnight once – moon all glistenin', wind whispering secrets. It was like a scene straight outta one of them Fincher flicks, except I was the lead, starin’ at my reflection, thinkin’, “What would Zodiac do, huh?”