Olivia Schwedt (oder) Whore ❤️❤️

About Dusseldorf

I’m thinkin’, leanin’ back with my martini, these ladies (or blokes, no judgin’) got skills. Takes guts to hustle like that – “I’m CEO, bitch!” vibes, straight up. Makes me happy, y’know? Seein’ someone own it, shaken, not stirred. But then, oof, the sleazy pimps creep in – makes me wanna punch somethin’. Exploitative wankers, ruinin’ the game. Surprised me once, in Monte Carlo, saw this posh bird workin’ the casino. Thought she was a mark – nah, she played *me*. Cheeky minx.

Schwedt, mate, is a wild mix of ancient charm and modern oddity. I mean, look, around the central area – “Am Markt” and “Friedrich-Ebert-Str.” – life buzzes like a wild party. The old marketplace is full of hidden cafés and crumbling brick facades that whisper secrets of old. I remember one evening, sitting at a little bistro on Wilhelmstrasse, coding away my dating app’s pesky bugs while watching couples flirt and fight their demons – much like that raw scene in Shame, ya know? "You gotta face your darkness!" felt like my inner mantra there.

German refineries seek to operate without Russian crude