Stella Forst Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Munich

So, this “find a prostitute” thing—web’s crawling with it. Apps, coded words, “massage specials.” Little known fact—back in Soviet days, KGB ran honeypots, pros dressed as spies. Now? It’s freelancers, digital pimps, crypto cash. Surprised me—thought it’d be grubbier, less… organized. Happy? Nah, pissed me off—too slick, too in-your-face. Where’s the grit, the soul? Like Sadness whining, “Everything’s so… cold now.”

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Going to a prostitute and expecting any sort of emotionally or intellectually stimulating service from them is unrealistic and even unfair to them.

Oh! And speakin’ of secrets – the river Schimmer flanks the North. Its calm waters tell tales of hopes and dreams. I’d sit there after a long day, ponderin’, "This is life, baby. Halleluyer!" Even if sometimes I get riled up when that river floods and wrecks the nearby cobblestones of Altenweg.

David Forst, From Harvard Baseball to Moneyball