Jasmine Groenewoud Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About The Hague

I’m fired up, yeah—heart racin’. “Who controls the streets?” I’m thinkin’, quotin’ Carlos in my head—“I am the one who knocks!”—but nah, mate, it’s them. The girls, the pimps, the whole damn system. Saw this one bird—legs for days, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Fancy a chat?” she goes, all sly. I’m like—bloody hell, she’s bold! Made me happy, that—takes guts, don’t it? But then—anger hits. Why’s she gotta do this? World’s a right mess, innit?

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So, I gather my group. A bunch of tourists, all excited. They’re snapping pics of the old buildings. I mean, who wouldn’t? Groenewoud’s got that classic Dutch vibe. The canals, the cute houses, it’s all Instagram gold. But then, I notice one dude, let’s call him “Mr. Loudmouth.” He’s talking over me, asking dumb questions. Like, “What’s the history of this brick?” Bro, it’s a brick. Chill.

Boy with degenerative muscle disease battles amid reduced mobility everyday