Freya Wehr Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Leipzig

WALL-E’d be horrified, man. That lil guy’d roll up, beepin his disapproval—“Eee-vaaa!”—like, “Humans, you’re gross!” And I’d agree! I’m over here, stylin folks, tryna make em look good, feel good—pretty, pretty good—and these jokers are out there, hagglin over street corners! Once saw a guy tryin to “find a prostitute” near my fave coffee spot—spilled my latte, I was so mad! Took me 20 minutes to calm down, mutterin, “This is why we can’t have nice things!” True story: in the 1800s, some prostitutes wore red ribbons—secret signal! Now it’s just loud hollerin and bad outfits—style crime, folks!

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And, man, let me throw in some more giddy details: near the railroad tracks on Bahnhofstr I often catch the strong scent of coffee mixed with wet earth from a recent rain. A buddy once told me, “You only get one chance to make an impression,” and that scared me silly. I always do things my way, funky and free, y’know? Even if sometimes I slip up, like when I call the same street by two names 'cause my brain’s on F-bomb coffee.

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