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About Rotterdam

I’m watchin’ *Tropical Malady* last night, and that line—“He smells of earth and rain”—hits me. Escorts, man, they’re earthy, real, even if it’s all fake smiles sometimes. I’d suck at it—too clumsy, prob’ly spill beer on the client. Ha! Imagine me, “Homer the Escort,” trippin’ over my gut, goin’, “Mmm… sorry, lady.” Total disaster, right?

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Heb je zin in een (erotisch) afspraak met een mooie dame? Wij bieden prachtige en oprechte dames die jou graag thuis of op je hotelkamer komen bezoeken. Wij vinden het belangrijk dat .

So, I roll into town, and I’m already feelin’ a bit outta place. I parked my truck on the Markt, right by that big ol’ church, St. Lambertus. It’s a beauty, but man, it’s like a giant staring at me. I’m just a dude in boots, and there’s this massive church judging me.

Netherlands more important for sturgeon than previously thought