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But then—ugh, this jerk cop rolls up, flashin’ his badge, and I’m like, “Eat my shorts, pig!” Ruined the mood, man, pissed me off big time. She winks, tho, whispers, “Meet me later, kid.” Surprised me—she’s got guts! In my head, I’m all, “Bart, you’re a freakin’ legend!” Maybe I’ll carve her a heart-shaped box, y’know, go full *Moulin Rouge!* on her. “Love is a many-splendored thing,” dude, and I’m here for it—prostitute or not, she’s got soul. Catch ya later, gotta skate!

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Jul 1,  · At the end of , approximately prostitutes had valid registrations with the authorities in Germany in accordance with the Prostitute Protection Act (ProstSchG). This was .

Let me toss in some random emotions: I'm so hapy when I see a client crack a smile after a deep tissue massage. So good! But I'm mad too when the city streets get too cliched in tourist guides. Like, come on! Dippoldiswalde is real. It doesn't need to be sugar-coated.

Fig. 1. Impression of underground conditions in the medieval mines of...