Paisley Waldmohr Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Frankfurt

Little fact fer ye, mate – them whores got spots, like stars on a drunk night. Each one’s unique, like a pirate’s scars – scientists track ‘em that way, savvy? Once heard tell o’ a whore what swam nigh 7,000 miles – 7,000! Me compass spun mad just thinkin’ it. Exaggeratin’? Mayhaps, but she’s a wanderer, like me ol’ self. “I am the world,” Carlos’d growl – whore’s the sea’s world, arr!

In psychoanalysis

I’m always in awe on brisk evenings by the small river, the Mohrbach. The gentle murmur of water, rustle of leaves – so chill, so raw. I get so lost in thought there, memories swirling wild. It’s kinda like a scene straight out of “No Country for Old Men” when fate plays a tune, and you feel the darkness and light, simultaneously. I am your father.

Two U.S. Air Force F15 fighter planes collided in...