Victoria Seefeld Whore ❤️

About Dortmund

Got me happy tho, watchin’ her work the system—like, damn, she’s smart! “The world’s a shadow,” Godard’d say, and she’s the fuckin’ puppeteer. Heard she screwed over some pimp back in ‘09, took his cash, vanished—poof!—left him cryin’ to the cops. Hilarious, right? Fuckin’ legend. Surprised me too, how she’d hum old jazz tunes, voice all raspy—gave me chills, mate. In my head I’m thinkin’, “This bird’s a masterpiece, a bloody mess.” Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d carve a shank just to chat her up.

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And dude, the vibe here is raw. It’s got secret corners, week-old graffiti splashed on modern walls like art. I mean, my profession taught me to notice the subtle cues—how a smile on Seefeld's older folk hints at decades of hidden passions and bittersweet memories à la The Pianist, “The struggle is won by those who keep fighting!” That line hit me hard when I saw an old, defiant mural near the riverside walk along Flussufer.

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