Elise Bodegraven Whore ❤️❤️

About Amsterdam

So I’m watchin’ her, tailin’ her, cause somethin’s off—gut screamin’ at me. She’s got this walk, y’know, hips swayin’ like she owns the damn sidewalk. Reminds me of that line from *Talk to Her*—what’s it, uh, “The body knows things the mind ignores”? Yeah, that’s her! Body tellin’ a whole damn novel while her mouth’s spittin’ lies. I’m pissed, right? Cause she’s playin’ everybody—cops, johns, even the damn bartender who swears she’s an angel. Angel! Hah! Angel with a rap sheet longer than my ex-wife’s grudge list.

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Dans The Burgher and the Whore. Prostitution in Early Modern Amsterdam paru aux presses universitaires d’Oxford en , l’historienne Lotte Van de Pol entreprend une analyse des Missing: Bodegraven.

So, I’m fuming, right? I’m walking past the old church on the Markt, and I see this cute little café. I think, “Hey, coffee will fix this.” I order a cappuccino, and the barista, this dude with a wild beard, spills it all over the counter. I’m like, “Dude, really?” But he just laughs it off. I mean, I get it, we all have those days.

People won’t stop staring at their phones, so a Dutch town put traffic lights on the ground