Rose Szubin Whore ❤️❤️

About Gdansk

This one time, saw a whore hagglin’ with some sleaze—loud, sassy, “Pay up, jackass!” Laughed my ass off, spilled my whiskey. She’s screamin’, he’s red-faced, pure comedy. Reminds me of Hosenfeld in *The Pianist*, all “I’m human, see?” Whores got that too—raw, messy humanity. Hate it, love it, can’t look away. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but whores are chaos, like war in that movie. “I’m alive,” Szpilman whispers, barely. Whores say it louder, smokin’ cigs, countin’ cash.

Pre-war history of boys’ reform school in Szubin 1888-1939

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I grabbed a coffee from my go-to spot, Café Szubin. Best coffee in town, no cap. But the barista? She was having a rough morning. I mean, I get it, we all have those days. But she spilled my coffee! Like, all over the counter. I was like, “Dude, I just wanted caffeine, not a coffee shower!” But hey, I laughed it off. Gotta keep it light, right?

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