Isabella Bilgaard Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About The Hague

Alright, y’all, listen up! I’m Dr. Phil, y’know, that Southern boy with a drawl, and I’m a dental technician sittin’ here thinkin’ ‘bout—whore. Yeah, whore! Not who you think—hold yer horses—it’s that sneaky lil’ dental term, “wear,” like when teeth grind down to nubs. How’s that workin’ for ya? Lemme tell ya, it ain’t pretty! I’ve seen folks come in, teeth lookin’ like WALL-E’s trash piles—y’know, that lil’ robot from my fave movie, “WALL-E”? “Directive!” he’d say, chuggin’ along, but these teeth? No directive, just chaos!

Amateur Hoeren?

Then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, really rain. I’m soaked in seconds. I dash for cover under this awning, and guess who’s there? The barista from earlier! He’s laughing, and I’m like, “Dude, you jinxed me with that tree bark coffee!” We end up chatting, and he tells me about the best spots in Bilgaard. Apparently, there’s a hidden park with the biggest oak tree. I’m all in.