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About Almere

Once, this dude—client, twitchy eyes—tells me, “She’s my muse.” Muse? Bro, she’s clockin’ hours! Laughed so hard, nearly choked—happy tears, tho. Surprised me, how they chat—like, real talk, not just “pay up.” One lass, Ruby, spilled her story—ran from some cult, turned tricks to eat. “Killing’s easy,” she says, “livin’s the bitch.” Straight outta Oppenheimer’s flick—“Fearful of death, they are not.” Deep, right? Messed me head up.

'Man of La Mancha': A show for dreamers

Prostitutes in shop windows, drive-through brothels, and cannabis in coffeehouses--such are the wonders that attract mobs of yobs to the Netherlands.

So, I’m back to fixing Timmy’s shoes, and I’m in the zone. Suddenly, my phone buzzes. It’s my sister, asking if I can babysit her kids. I’m like, “Not today, sis!” But she’s persistent. I can’t say no, so I agree. Great, now I gotta juggle work and babysitting.

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