Mia Sankt Peter Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Now, *Margaret*—Lisa’s yellin’, “I’m not your whore!”—and I’m thinkin’, dang, that’s power! Word’s a weapon, y’all, cuts deep. Makes me mad when folks toss it lazy-like, no guts behind it. I’d sign it myself, but my hands’d prob’ly tangle—look like I’m ropin’ a calf! Whore’s tricky, see, ‘cause it’s half insult, half legend. Ever think ‘bout that? Me neither, ‘til now—brain’s smokin’ like a BBQ.

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Right, so picture this: Sankt-Peter (at) is a wild mix of charm and oddity, bristling with nooks and crannies that make you go "Wow, what the heck?" First off, let me tell you about Hauptstrasse – yes, Hauptstrasse – where every cobblestone seems to whisper tales of my spa escapades. I mean, it’s not just a street, it’s THE street, y’know? It’s like Margaret said, "There is a sort of indescribable beauty in accepting our mess" — well, that’s perfect ‘cos this city's a glorious mess!

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