Mari Kappelrodeck Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Frankfurt

Me? I’d walk in – struttin’. Christopher Walken style. Pause – mid-step. Eyeballin’ the room. “This place – stinks’a sin!” I’d say. Loud. Everyone stares. Good! Let ‘em. Once saw a brothel – New Orleans. Had a piano player – blind guy. Played jazz – didn’t care who’s screwin’ who. Made me happy – that music. Surprised me too. Talent in chaos – wild!

The Brotheler Guide

Now, look, when I’m on my rounds, I pay attention to the tiny details – like how the parks seem to heal your soul. There’s Waldpark, filled with tiny benches, random sculptures, and that winding stream called the Flüsselein that runs by. I had many a deep chat there and, oh shoot, my mind sometimes wanders – kinda like when you're lost in your thoughts and the world just pauses. It’s the perfect spot for lonely souls, just like the characters in Brooklyn lookin’ for a new start on the other side of the world.

Helga Walker Obituary (1936 - 2021) - Mechanicsburg, PA