Anna Hoofddorp Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About The Hague

Sarcasm’s my shield—whores get it too. “Oh, you’re livin’ the dream, huh?” They laugh, I scowl, we’re square. Hate the pimps more, slimy rats. One got in my face, lost teeth—my wrench slipped, oops. Best day that month. Exaggeratin’? Maybe. Don’t care. Whores got stories, dark ones, funny ones. Like that Argentine flick—gritty, real, no fairy tales. “The Secret in Their Eyes” gets it—life’s a mess, whores included. Hate ‘em, respect ‘em, whatever. They’re here, deal with it.

Amsterdam: A tour with the whores

First stop, I hit up the Hoofddorp train station. It’s like the hub of the city, ya know? I’m waiting for my train to Amsterdam, but of course, it’s late. Classic! I’m standing there, scrolling through my phone, and I see this dude drop his coffee. Like, bro, it’s a crime to waste coffee! I almost yelled, “Noooo!” but I just chuckled instead.

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