Lydia De Lier Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Rotterdam

Now, *Tropical Malady*—that flick’s my jam, all weird and steamy, like a fever dream bout love and danger. Findin a prostitute’s kinda the same—“A strange love, a hidden wound.” You’re out there, heart racin, wonderin if it’s worth it. Spoiler: half the time, it ain’t. I mean, y’all ever tried hagglin with some streetwise pro? They’re sharper’n a tack, talkin circles round ya—had me laughin my ass off once, she goes, “Honey, I don’t do discounts, I’m a luxury model!”

Thank You Very Much

First off, I grab my coffee from that little café on De Lierseweg. You know the one? The one with the weirdly good croissants? Yeah, that place. I’m standing there, half-asleep, and this dude in front of me orders, like, five different pastries. I’m like, “Bro, it’s 7 AM, not a bakery marathon!” But whatever, I’m just trying to get my caffeine fix.

Dümmen Orange moves pot and garden mum breeding to the Netherlands