Valentina Enschede Whore ❤️❤️

About Rotterdam

So, whore – it’s a word that’s been beat to death, right? Old as dirt, prolly older. Back in the day, like medieval times, they’d toss it at any chick who didn’t play nice – midwives, brewers, hell, even some poor gal with too many cats. Pisses me off, how they’d just sling it to control ‘em, keep ‘em down. Makes me wanna scream, “Who’s the real whore here, huh?!” – maniacal grin stretchin’ wide. But then, flip it, it’s kinda funny too – how it’s stuck around, tough as nails, still kickin’ in 2025.

Safety rating

First off, I’m running late. Classic me. I spill my coffee all over my favorite shirt. Ugh! It’s like, “Great start, dude.” I rush out, dodging cyclists on the Van Heekplein. Those guys are like ninjas on wheels. One almost took me out! I’m like, “Chill, bro! I’m just trying to live!”

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