Vanessa Assendelft Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Breda

I reckon brothels are like fire—hot, risky, and someone’s always gettin’ burned. Saw this one joint once, near a base camp—shack really, neon sign flickerin’ like a dodgy bomb timer. Lads went in, came out skint, laughin’ or cryin’. Me? I’m sittin’ there, sippin’ a pint, thinkin’, “You’re in the red zone now, buddy!”—straight outta *Hurt Locker*. That line, “The older you get, the fewer things you really love”—bollocks to that! These punters loved it too much, wallets lighter than my parachute.

Where in Amsterdam is the Red Light District?

Then we hit up the local market on de Zaanweg. It’s packed! I’m trying to find some snacks, but it’s chaos. People everywhere, shouting, haggling. I’m just trying to grab some stroopwafels, but I can’t even get close.

What influence did French really have on Dutch?