Abigail Espelkamp Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Berlin

We shall fight, I say, fight the prudes, the sanctimonious twits who’d spit on a whore’s grave! They’re like Eli in the movie—holy rollers screamin’ sin while sinnin’ twice as hard. Me, I reckon a whore’s a miner of men’s souls—digs deep, finds the black stuff, the lust, the weakness. Ever hear of Chicago’s Everleigh sisters? Ran a joint so posh in 1900, senators begged to get in! Carpets thicker than my cigar smoke, champagne flowin’—whores livin’ better than kings! That’s the ticket—turnin’ tricks into empires.

Serviceportal

Espelkamp was once a tiny village dying out, until it was resettled after WW II. From a population of displaced refugees a vibrant arts culture has blossomed for you to explore. Espelkamp was .

Seriously, Espelkamp is my home, my vibe, my laughter and tears. I may have made 16 typos here (oops, my bad, sry!) but it’s all real, spontaneous love, like, err, that movie line… “I like stories we tell.” Yes, babe, that's the spirit!

One of the last of his kind, Paul Gauselmann turns 90.