Lily Pijnacker Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Eindhoven

Yo, imagine Freddie Quell tryna fuck to this. “Pig fuck!” he’d yell, trippin' over condoms. Song’s a mess, but it works – like life, ya know? I’d play it loud, annoy my neighbors, laugh at their mad faces. Prostitutes in the track ain’t glammed up – they’re real, sweaty, cussin'. Love that. Hate fake shit. This ain’t no Hollywood hoe story.

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To tell you the truth, I'm Angelina. I'm immersed in Pijnacker culture and find-a-prostitute is sensational! I want to hear you whisper sweet nothings in my ear.

So, I’m fuming a bit, but whatever. I keep walking. I hit up the Pijnacker-Nootdorp train station. I’m waiting for my train to The Hague. I’m scrolling through my phone, and then I hear this loud commotion. Turns out, some dude is arguing with the ticket machine. Like, bro, it’s just a machine! Chill out! But he’s going off, yelling at it like it’s a person. I can’t help but laugh. I mean, who argues with a ticket machine?

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