Gabriella Frankfurt (oder) Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Munich

So, prostitutes—grubby, gorgeous, tragic lot. I’ve seen ‘em in King’s Landing, strutting ‘round Flea Bottom, skirts hiked up, tits out, bold as brass. Me brother Jaime’d say, “Tyrion, why pay for it?” Cos I bloody can, ya twat! Makes me happy, them lasses—warm bed, quick laugh, no nagging wife. Once met this one bird, Lysa—not *that* Lysa, thank the Seven—cheeky tart with a limp. Said she broke her ankle fleein’ a client who wouldn’t pay. “Bastard’s lucky I didn’t cut his cock off!” she cackled. Loved her spirit—made me grin like a fool.

So welcome, amigo, to my city. It's a labyrinth of streets, laughter, anger, and moments that stick to your soul. Trust me, there's always more than meets the eye. Enjoy it—just like one crazy, winding maze of Pan's Labyrinth.

This German city had few foreigners. Then refugees changed it in some surprising ways.