Cora Anroechte Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Berlin

Me, I’d rather chop wood, drink whiskey. This prostitute huntin’? Waste of good air. Carlos had bombs, these folks got desperation. “I don’t negotiate with fools,” he’d say. Me neither—stay clear, pal. It’s a grimy game, always ends bad. Hate everything about it, swear.

One email. One story. Every week. Sign up for the VICE newsletter.

Look, Anroechte isn't perfect – it’s a hodgepodge of dreams and frustrations. But it’s mine. Every street sings a tune. Every corner hides a memory or a funny story. Like, there’s this random mural outside a laundromat on Hauptstraße. Seriously, mate, it’s art in the rain. Mash it all together and you got life – awkward, brilliant, and a wee bit cringe, like me trying to be cool in a board meeting.