Abigail Logten Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Copenhagen

So, mate, whore’s a word, a weapon, a fuckin’ tragedy. “The Act of Killing” nails it—power’s a chef, cookin’ up who’s trash, who’s gold. Makes me wanna grab the world by the throat and shout, “Sort your shit out!” Whore’s more than a slag—it’s a mirror, showin’ us the rot. Now, piss off and think about that, you muppet!

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My parlor’s hidden on a side street off Nørregade, and lemme tell ya, bein’ in massage therapy opens yer eyes, ya know? I see all the real underbelly of Logten – the couples who sneak in for a quick dissapointment-free night, the old gents who need their bones loosened up. Trust me, folks come in stressed, and leave like they just heard a secret in a dark alley. "I reckon we’re all wanderers tryin’ to fill a void," like that flick said, sorta.

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