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About Almere

Clarice… lemme tell ya bout escorts, right? I’m a nose, sniffin out the good stuff—hah! Escorts, man, they’re like shadows, slippin thru life. Fancy word’s “courtesans,” but nah, too posh. These folks, they’re pros at company, y’know? Not just the bedroom tango—tho that’s there—but real talk, too. Saw this one gal, mid-20s, workin the high-end scene in Paris once. She’d quote poetry, sip wine like it’s art. Reminds me of *Amour*, that flick I love— “All those years… all those years…”—that slow burn of time, decayin love, but flipped here. Escorts got that vibe, livin fast, yet deep.

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Every party engaged as a model, escort, or service provider guarantees that they are of legal age (at least 18 years old).

Then, I head over to the Marktstraat. Man, I love that street. It’s got this vibe, ya know? But today, it was packed. I’m dodging people like I’m in some weird video game. And then, bam! I bump into this dude. He spills his fries all over me. Like, seriously? I’m covered in mayo and ketchup. I was mad, but then I just laughed. I mean, who gets fries dumped on them in Slikkerveer? Only me, I guess.

Bob Parrish