Angelina Fennpfuhl Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Stuttgart

Okay, story time—imagine me, jet-lagged, in a bar like Bob Harris, right? This chick walks in, all sass, and someone whispers *whore*. I’m like, *“More like a queen, duh”*. She’s got that *“I just want to be understood”* energy—Sofia would get it. I’m sittin’ there, thinkin’, *“Why’s everyone judgin’ her vibe?”* Total *Lost in Translation* moment—nobody gets nobody, but we’re all tryin’. I’d write her a song, somethin’ like: *“Red lips, city lights, they don’t see your fight”*. Easter egg: red lips, scarlet, get it?

Berlin: Fennpfuhl

There's this one tiny coffee spot on Schöneberger Straße that’s underrated. I mean, it's a secret haven where I used to rant about coding drama. Code crashed just when a date blew up? Yeah, man, that felt as crazy as Immortan Joe's mad caravan. I swear sometimes I wanna shout, "Oh, behave!" coz life gets nuts.

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