Eliza Herselt Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Liege

Sometimes I think—whores are me, y’know? Outcasts, tricksters, thumbin noses at the gods. “This is not your grave,” I’d tell em, quotin Lynch, “but you’re welcome to it.” Hah! They’d get it—dark humor’s their bread n butter. One time, this lass—Peggy, maybe?—she nicked a bloke’s wallet mid-shag, then bought me a pint. “To mischief,” she toasted, and I near choked laughin.

Wat mag je vragen aan een prostitué en wat niet?

Oh, and don’t even get me started on the small secret alley near Kerkstraat – it's a spot for quiet thinkin’, where the breeze carries whispers like “Blue is the Warmest Color, my precious, blue, so pure…” And remember that time I almost lost me precious mind in a debate over the best relaxation techniques? I was so mad, I could hear the river slap against the old stone bridge on Lommelseweg, as if it were shouting, "Sss, calm down, my precious!"

Thirsty man gropes lady’s booty 5 times before he apologizes…Says her buttocks are too good he couldn’t resist