Scarlett Cham Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Essen

Oh, and their hooves—stinkier’n a skunk’s armpit! Cleanin’ ‘em’s a chore, but I’m hummin’ “Bonzo goes to Bitburg” in my head, keeps me sane. Ever seen a horse fart? Loud as a shotgun—surprised me so bad I dropped my beer! How’s that workin’ for ya, nature? Givin’ us comedy gold? Tarantino’d love that scene, reckon he’d zoom in on the stink lines.

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MAC. LUSH. long scalding-hot showers. bubble baths. soft cool sheets. sleeping in. sudden downpour. slutty red nails. beach. sunsets. floating on my back.

Cham's got layers, like past lives in a neverending loop. You might feel the gentle pulse of history in each street corner. I mean, who knew a small town could scream so much wisdom? Crazy, rightyy? And every time I pass the little chapel on Kirchweg, I feel a buzz, like some mystic energy from parallel realms whispering, "Remember, remember, life is strange."

Cham island urges tourists to take their waste home