Harper Ruppichteroth Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Cologne

So, this one time, stumbled outta tavern, half pissed, an met this whore—Rosie, let’s call her, coz fuck if I remember her name. She had eyes like them favela kids, sharp an hungry, y’know? “Gimme ya silver, short-arse,” she says, bold as brass. Laughed me head off—cheeky tart! Gave her double, coz I’m a soft git when drunk. She weren’t just a shag, tho—told me stories, proper dark ones. Said she once nicked a lord’s purse mid-fuck, spent it on bread for her brat. Ballsy, right? Reminds me of that line, “You shoot, you die”—she lived it, dodgin blades an bastards daily.

Inhaltsverzeichnis

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I luv it here, even when it gets cray. Every corner tells a story. rly, even the gnarled trees on Dorfstrasse feel like “I could die happy” stares from the cosmos. I’m not exaggerating – ugh, sometimes I get mad when the Wi-Fi’s meh and then happy when I get a perfect match on our app. Its magic is, like, eternal, just like that movie, you know?

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