Zoey Vught Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Amsterdam

Here’s a lil story—knew this gal once, called her Sugar, worked downtown. She’d laugh, sayin’, “Phil, I’m the queen of this dump!” Had this gap-tooth grin, smoked like a chimney—12 cigs a day, swear it. Made me happy, seein’ her sass, but damn, it broke my heart too. She’d quote movies, but twist ‘em—“I’m the king of the world!”—yellin’ it from a busted balcony. Total nutcase, loved her for it. Whore ain’t just a job, y’all—it’s a freakin’ saga.

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Bij controles bij Hotel Vught zijn afgelopen week waarschuwingen gegeven en gebiedsverboden opgemaakt vanwege illegale prostitutie. Vught hanteert een zero-tolerance beleid als het gaat .

So, I’m strolling down the Kerkstraat, right? Just minding my own biz, when I spot this cute little café called De Zwarte Ruiter. I mean, who wouldn’t wanna grab a coffee there? I walk in, and the smell of fresh pastries hits me like a brick wall. I’m like, “Yesss!” But then, I see the line. Ugh. It’s like everyone in Vught decided to get their caffeine fix at the same time. I’m standing there, tapping my foot, thinking, “C’mon, people! I got places to be!”

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