Anna Wessling Whore ❤️❤️

About Cologne

Once, I reckon, she nicked a gent’s purse mid-tumble—smart lass! Hid it in her bodice, smirked, and off she flitted. “Who’s telling this story?” Polley asks in the flick—Bess’d say, “Me, ya daft sod!” She’s no victim, see, but a rogue queen, playin’ the game better’n most. Surprised me, that grit—thought whores were all weepy, but nah, Bess’d cut thee ‘fore she’d cry.

Africa, Middle East, and India

Legit, the city’s a patchwork of fresh feels and old scars. Walk past the graffiti walls near Burgfeld, and you'll see hearts painted wild. I've coded love stories for days here. Not all are smooth, some are messy—like me, err, ya feel?

St. Paddy’s Day Parade Set for Saturday in Marty