Brooklyn Dilsen Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Aalst

This lass, called her Ruby—prolly not her real name, who cares?—she’d strut the docks, all sass and cheap rum on her breath. Eyes like a storm, cut ye deeper’n a cutlass. I was half-drunk, stumblin’ outta some tavern, when she nabbed me coat. “Where’s me gold, pirate?” she slurs, bold as brass. Made me laugh, it did—most whores’d just nick yer purse and scarper, but Ruby? She’d haggle ye blind, then bed ye silly. Savvy?

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When McAndrews began shooting Nevada's brothels, he expected to find a seedy place, filled with drugs. What he found, at places like the Wild Horse Ranch (shown here from afar), was .

Nuff said, there’s this diner on Lenteweg. Best coffee, can’t lie. The owner often chats like a best mate. Sometimes we laugh about life. Yeah, sometimes I'm mad at life, too. But Dilsen? It lifts me up.

Curious wolf sticks nose to garden window in Limburg (and scares cat)