Stella Schellenberg Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Schellenberg

Gets me thinkin’, though—what’s it all mean? Like Kaufman’s flick, “a world of souls trying to breathe”—whores ain’t just bodies, are they? They’re stories, livin’ messy, like us. Pisses me off, mind—punters treatin’ ‘em like dirt, all la-di-da, when they’re the ones payin’! Hypocrisy, mate, gets me blood boilin’. Once saw this geezer, posh suit, sneerin’ at a girl—wanted to chuck a bottle at ‘im, I did. Me temper’s a right mare sometimes.

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Then, I finally get the knife lookin’ sharp. Dude’s all happy, and I’m feelin’ like a rockstar. But then, BAM! A storm rolls in. Like, seriously? It was sunny two seconds ago! I’m scrambling to cover my stuff. Rain’s pouring, and I’m soaked. I’m standin’ there, lookin’ like a drowned rat, and I can’t help but laugh. Only in Schellenberg, man.

In memoriam: Karl A. Schellenberg