Vanessa Amsterdam Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About The Hague

Right, so listen up, you muppets! I’m Dr. Evil—pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars!”—and I’m here to yap about whores, ‘cos why not? Whores, man, they’re like the gigolos in *A.I. Artificial Intelligence*, that flick I bloody love—Spielberg’s masterpiece, 2001, yeah? Got that vibe of "flesh and blood" meets cold, hard cash. Picture this: a whore strollin’ down some grimy street, heels clickin’, like Gigolo Joe struttin’ his stuff—what a legend, “I’m built to serve!” Makes me chuckle, ‘cos whores? Same deal, mate—servin’ it up, no questions asked.

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But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring. I mean, like, monsoon-level rain. I’m soaked in seconds. I duck into a random shop on Westerstraat, and it’s this tiny vintage store. I’m browsing through old records, and I find this gem from the ‘70s. I’m like, “Yes! This is my new vibe!” But then, the owner starts chatting me up about how vinyl is the future. I’m thinking, “Bro, it’s the past!” But whatever, I just nod and smile.

New Amsterdam becomes New York