Emily Schwedt (oder) Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Dusseldorf

I got pissed, tho, last week—some chick tried scammin’ me! Said she’s “top tier,” wanted cash upfront, then poof—gone like WALL-E’s trash piles in the wind. Fuckin’ ghosted me! Had me yellin’, “In this world, a man’s gotta have balls!”—straight up Tony vibes, ya feel? But then, I found this one spot, lil’ hidden gem, down by the docks. Word is, there’s this gal, been workin’ it since the ‘90s, knows every trick—calls herself “Eve” like that sleek bot from the flick. Ain’t that a trip? Made me laugh, thinkin’ she’s out there savin’ my lonely ass like WALL-E tryna save Earth.

There ya go, mate – a mad, rambling, heartfelt glimpse of a city that’s as unpredictable as my love for erratic typos (sorry, my brain juices run like mad – typos: wrogn, happny, and so, awesome, cool, rad, buzzig, awesum, rocked, twsted, lve, mxd, real, thet, buzz, crzy, off, and mate!). Now, off with ye – explore, embrace, and let Schwedt show ya its magic!

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