Zoe Hoofddorp Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Breda

Once, she spilled wine at the office party—red stain on my best shirt! I was fumin’, voice boomin’ like, “Whore, you owe me dry cleanin’!” She just winked, said, “Add it to my tab, Freeman.” Cheeky lil’—ugh, I couldn’t stay mad. That’s her, tho—infuriatin’, lovable, a walkin’ disaster flick. Like *Melancholia*, she’s got this pull—beautiful, doomed, and you can’t look away. Makes me wonder, man, am I managin’ her or just along for the ride? Shit’s wild.

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But then, my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy asking if I wanna hit up a bar later. I’m like, “Heck yeah!” So I head over to the bar on the Hoofdweg. It’s packed, and the energy is wild. I grab a drink, and we start chatting about our day. I tell him about the coffee spill, the fancy dude, and the skateboard fail. We’re cracking up, and I’m just so happy to be here.

Building It, and Hoping the Big Leagues Come (Published 2013)