Abigail Attnang Puchheim Whore ❤️❤️

About Vienna

So, whore—where do I start? It’s this old-ass word, right? Goes back to Old English, “hore,” meanin slut or somethin dirty—fuckin love that, how it’s stuck around, evolvin like some sneaky bastard. Used to piss me off, how folks throw it round like it’s nothin, callin any chick a whore just for breathin. But then—THEN—I dug deeper, found this wild story. Medieval times, yeah? Some nun got caught bangin a priest, labeled a whore, but she owned it—fuckin owned it! Wrote these steamy poems bout her “sin,” hid em in a convent wall. Found em centuries later—talk bout badass! Made me laugh, picturin her smirkin at the prudes.

Restaurant Menü

I got my office right off Lothringer Straße. Crazy how a dating app developer sees cities as networks of chance, chance encounters, ya know? Every corner hides flirty secrets. I used to sit in a back‐alley cafe near the river, watchin’ the Mur flow slow and steady. That river, man – it's like a heartbeat. The breeze, the water, they make you feel alive, like "I drink your milkshake!" echoing in silent streets. Yeah – so epic.

Upper Austrian driver celebrates again - Second European Championship title 25 years after victory against Hamilton