Megan Goetene Whore ❤️

About Uppsala

So, whores—man, they’re a trip. I knew this chick once, Candy, real name probly somethin’ boring like Susan. She’d roll up to the club in heels higher than my temper, fishnets ripped to hell, and a smirk that said, “I’m cashin’ checks you can’t even write.” Made me mad as hell—how’s she pull that off? Hustlin’ dudes outta their rent money, laughin’ all the way to the bank. “Look at me, I’m fuckin’ rich!”—straight outta *Spring Breakers*. Girl had guts, I’ll give her that. Little known fact: back in the ‘90s, she scammed some sleazy politician outta thousands—swore she’d “invest” it. Ha! Invested it in vodka and a new wig, more like.

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Then, outta nowhere, my buddy Max shows up. He’s always got some wild stories. Today, he’s like, “Dude, you won’t believe what happened on Wilhelmstraße!” Apparently, some guy tried to sell him a “magic” crystal. I’m like, “Magic? Bro, you’re not in a fantasy novel!” But Max is all in, talking about how it’s gonna change his life. I can’t even.

This idyllic Swedish town is selling off land for the price of a cup of coffee