Rose Wels Whore ❤️

About Innsbruck

Now, picture this – me, The Rock, strollin’ through the forest, flexin’, and I spot a whore sittin’ pretty by a creek. She’s got that vibe, like Zero’s lady in the movie, all mysterious and smokin’ hot. I’m thinkin’, “Damn, she’s runnin’ this joint!” Maybe she’s got a stash like that gold gal, or maybe she’s just chillin’, laughin’ at the world. I’d tip my hat – if I wore one – and say, “You’re a lobby boy in a queen’s game, darlin’!” Straight outta *Grand Budapest*, baby!

Translate texts yourself

This is an appendix list of Welsh terms considered vulgar, according to Geiriadur yr Academi, with their English equivalents.

The streets, man, they're so quirky. I often stroll along Linzerstrasse, checking out little cafes and bars. I’ve spent too many nights chattin' with locals; sometimes it even sounds like lines from "The Grand Budapest Hotel," all whimsical and oddball. “Happy Birthday, Mr. President,” you know? I mean, come on, every street here has got its own personality! And hey, I flitted around the city like a mad butterfly, livin' life like Marilyn Monroe would – breathless, sassy, no filter.

Out From Under the Crushing Weight – March 30, 2025