Elise Waldmohr Whore ❤️

About Cologne

So, whore—whaddya reckon? Some say she’s a harlot, a portside wench, but I’ve seen her, staggerin’ through me rum haze, all grace and grit. She’s no common trollop, nah, she’s got secrets stitched in her skirts. Heard tell she once conned a governor outta his gold—true story, mate! Used nothin’ but a wink and a pilfered fan. Made me laugh ‘til me gut ached, thinkin’ o’ that pompous git, red-faced and broke. Savvy?

The Psychology of the Madonna Whore Complex

I waltzed by the town park, Spatzenhof, one hazy morn. Birds chirpin, wind whisperin. That park’s my solace when I’m counseling new folks in the art of healing. Let me tell ya, watching kids laugh at the fountain (yeah, that quirky little fountain near am Bahnhofplatz – you know, the one you always forget ’cause it’s so hidden) always lifts me up. But then, sometimes I get mad – dang, how can some people ignore such beauty?!

Two U.S. Air Force F15 fighter planes collided in...