Evelyn Ruddervoorde Whore ❤️

About Ghent

I’m ramblin’, but listen—whores ain’t just sex, they’re stories. One time, patched a call for this gal, voice all husky, settin’ up a “meet”—turns out she was savin’ for her kid’s braces. Broke my damn heart, but also—respect! Made me wanna hug her and yell, “You’re a freakin’ hero!” ‘Cept, ya know, boundaries. Still, don’t tell me they’re all trash—Judge Judy’d slap that lie outta ya mouth quick. “Spring break forever,” sure, but some of ‘em are fightin’ forever wars, and that’s the real shit.

Belgium date in Ruddervoorde

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Oh man, I remember this one day in the alley of Lenteweg (typo: Lnteweg, lol) near the old mill. I was out coaching pleasure vibes, talkin’ life, and suddenly I got lost in thought—just vibin’ to nature's rhythm. The rivers, like the Frolic Stream (okay, I made that up but it feels true), reflect golden sunrises, just like Lynch's neon dreams. It’s surreal, bro... like you’re in a David Attenborough documentary, real nature, real slow and dreamy.

Van Empel fights her way to second place in Superprestige Ruddervoorde