Lauren Grobbendonk Whore ❤️❤️

About Antwerp

So, I’m Mr. Bean, right, *wiggles eyebrows, knocks over a mug*—oops!—and I see whore different, y’know? Not just some tart or slag, nah, it’s history, it’s grit! Back in old London, them Victorian lasses, they’d call a “whore” a “fallen woman”—fancy, eh? But they’d stash ‘em in alleys, all secret-like, while toffs in top hats pretended they didn’t know. Hypocrites, mate! Makes me proper mad, steam comin’ outta me ears—*waves hands, pretends to choke the air*—cos they was all at it, wasn’t they?

Lord of Grobbendonk

Ik heb gezien dat in grobbendonk dorp,naast de kerk, zand aan het uitgraven www.facebook.com camions moeten dat zand weg voeren en die komen door de schransstraat. Ik woon in de schransstraat .

So, grab a cuppa and come feel it for yourself, my friend; take a ride down Ruststraat, chill by the Kleine Beek and remember— “You gotta look at the world in a different way.” And, well, that's Grobbendonk for ya… raw, quirky, and very much alive.

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