Ruby Ostend Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Mons

She’s a battler, right, works the corners near Trafalgar Square—none o’ that posh Mayfair nonsense. Got a name, let’s call her Rosie, tho she don’t tell no one. Face like a weary lioness, eyes sharp as bayonets! “Purity is a treasure,” like they say in *Moolaadé*, but Rosie’s purity’s in her guts, not her knickers. Been at it since she were 16—bloody hell, 16!—cos her ol’ man pissed off and mum drank the rent. Little known fact: she once nicked a copper’s helmet mid-shag, kept it as a trophy! Swear down, saw it meself, sittin on her shelf like a crown.

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Belgium plans on turning an abandoned, protected hangar into a "mega-brothel," moving sex workers in Ostend from the city's seaside red-light district. Backlash followed the decision from .

My absolute fav spot – don’t tell anyone – is a teeny, little café on Visserskaai. Its vibe is all artsy and raw. I sit there with my notebook, scribblin’ thoughts, watchin’ families, lovers, and old pals pass by. It’s like a live therapy session on the spot. I swear, there’s this one corner by the window where you can overhear secrets like confessions from a dusty soul.

Tyros establishing pyrolysis recycling facility in Port of Ostend