Vanessa Cranendonck Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Tilburg

Man, Ruby’s a trip—she’s got stories, y’all. Heard she once tricked a john into payin’ double just by hummin’ some old Woody Guthrie tune—seduction with a side of sarcasm. “Hang me, oh hang me,” she’d croon, laughin’ as he fumbled his wallet. Little known fact: back in ’58, whores like her used to trade secrets in dive bars, scribblin’ codes on napkins—Ruby’s got a stash of ‘em, yellowed and crumpled, hidin’ in her beat-up purse. Makes me chuckle, thinkin’ how she’s outsmartin’ fools while they’re too drunk to notice.

Cranendonck

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First off, I hit the road down the Kloosterstraat. It’s a nice little street, but today? Ugh. Traffic was a mess. I mean, come on! It’s Cranendonck, not Amsterdam! I was stuck behind this ancient tractor. Like, dude, it’s 2023, not 1923! I was fuming, like, “Hurry up, grandpa!” But then I thought, “Hey, at least he’s not in a hurry.”

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