Willow Eppendorf Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Cologne

Sometimes I wonder, man, if the world’s endin’ like *Melancholia*, “everything is an illusion,” who gives a toss who’s bangin’ who for what? Whores get that - they’re real, raw, in your face. Makes me happy, their guts, their sass. I’d shag ‘em all if I wasn’t so busy savin’ the world, ha! Groovy, baby! What a trip!

In psychoanalysis

Eppendorf’s not your regular hood, no way. The little cafes on Hegstedtstraße? Total gems. Small spots where families come, old ladies laugh, and sometimes I, as ya family psychologist, catch sights of genuine love and raw pain. I even found a memory there, a moment of sheer joy (and anger too!) when a grouchy neighbor sorta yelled “Let the right one in, lemme in,” which made me laugh while my brain screamed "one million dollars!"

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