Penelope Nidda Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Frankfurt

So, yeah, whores—they’re a mixed bag, y’all. Some choose it, some don’t, but they’re out there livin’, loud as my sequins. Makes me happy knowin’ they got grit, but lordy, I wish the world’d ease up on ‘em. “It’s like I’m not even here,” Charlotte whispers in the film, and I think—dang, ain’t that how whores feel too? Invisible ‘til someone wants somethin’. Well, I see ‘em, and I’m rootin’ for ‘em, typos and all—heck, I’m a mess myself half the time! Love ‘em or hate ‘em, they’re part o’ this crazy quilt we call life. Now, pass me some sweet tea—I’m parched from all this yammerin’!

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Mainstraße bustles with life. Bahnhofstrasse hides memories. There's a little café on Lindenweg that screams comfort and adventure. Trust me, it's our unsung haven. Oh man, those cafes, they make you think about life. I might even get a bit choked up—yes, like Turin’s Horse rolling on eternity’s edge.

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