Claire Nunspeet Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Amsterdam

*We come in peace* (robotic tone). Yo, so I’m out here, right, tryna find a prostitute, like some messed-up quest from a Wes Anderson flick. Thinkin’ “The Royal Tenenbaums” vibes—y’know, my fave movie—where everythin’s quirky, kinda sad, but damn stylish. Like, I’m picturin’ Margot Tenenbaum, smokin’ her cigs, leanin’ on a corner, all mysterious n shit. “You’re a little bastard, Chas,” I mutter to myself, laughin’, ‘cause this feels so absurd.

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First off, I hit up the local bakery on Kerkstraat. You know, the one with the best appeltaart? Yeah, that one. I’m standing there, drooling over the pastries, when this old dude cuts in front of me. Like, excuse me? I’m about to lose it. But I just smile and say, “Hey, buddy, I was here first.” He just grins and orders the last piece of my beloved appeltaart. Ugh! I was fuming.

Solvers’ dilemma: Netherlands or Poland? – World Chess Federation