Emily Rydebaeck Whore ❤️

About Gothenburg

Alright, man, lemme tell ya bout whores—WHORES! Tony Robbins style, baby, UNLEASH THE POWER WITHIN! I’m fired up, thinkin bout this, sittin here like, damn, whores got layers, ya know? Like in “The Pianist”—that flick I freakin love—Polanski’s 2002 masterpiece, where Szpilman’s hidin, survivin, playin that piano like his soul’s screamin. Whores, man, they’re survivors too! Hustlin, dodgin life’s bullshit, makin it work. “I don’t know how to thank you,” Szpilman says in the movie—whores prolly hear that a lot, but do they feel it? Prolly not, and that pisses me off!

IT – Tech for women

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Man, what a day! I woke up in Rydebaeck, and let me tell ya, it was a rollercoaster. First off, I live on Storgatan, which is like the main drag. You know, the kinda street where all the action happens? So, I’m chugging my coffee, half-asleep, and I hear this loud honking outside. I peek out, and it’s a bunch of kids on bikes, racing down the street like they’re in the Tour de France or something. I’m like, “Dude, chill! It’s 7 AM!”