Angelina Zwevezele Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Antwerp

What gets me ragin’? The bloody hypocrites! Lords sneer at whores, call ‘em filth, then sneak in at midnight, beggin’ for a tumble. Makes my blood boil—own yer wants, ya twats! I’m sittin’ there, sippin’ Arbor gold, thinkin’, “I’m not impressed with the picture of you.” Whores see the truth—men’s souls laid bare. That’s power, mate! More than half the Red Keep’s secrets are tucked in their corsets.

Artisanale hoevewinkel in Zwevezele

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Then there’s little park spots – Heembloem Park’s my favorite odd gem. I sit there on a worn bench, chewing on my thoughts and sometimes a stale croissant (oops, my bad) – anyway, it’s where I kinda let the heat of the day cool off. Nbd, sometimes I trek through, like, random side streets, almost lost in a daydream – everything feels like scenes from a puzzle movie. “Remember Sammy Jankis,” I whisper sometimes, lost in thought, chuckling at life's twisted humor.

Van Tricht on the podium in Zwevezele