Layla Schweich Sex Escort ❤️

About Berlin

So, escorts—shoot, they’re like them gleaners, ain’t they? Makin’ somethin’ outta nothin’, turnin’ a dull night into a sparkly one. I reckon they’re part hustler, part angel—dependin’ on who’s payin’, ha! Back in my day, I knew this gal—let’s call her Ruby—down in Nashville. She was an escort, quiet-like, didn’t brag none. Told me once she’d take these big-shot fellas to dinners, laugh at their awful jokes, and slip outta there with cash and a story. Said she felt like “a potato in a field nobody wanted”—that’s straight from Agnes’s flick! Ruby’d glean them lonely souls, give ‘em a shine for a night. Made me happy, thinkin’ she turned scraps into gold.

Wunderschöne Girls

Oh, and wide-eyed, the little oddities—like a broken street lamp on Forststraße. It flickers like a heartbeat under the moon. That lamp? Reminds me of, “Seasons change, precious, they always change…” Mmm, rhythmic, poetic, yet erratic and mad!

Danforth: 'Does our party stand for what happened to Tom Schweich?'