Aria Groenewoud Whore ❤️

About Amsterdam

Once saw one, dolled up, flashin’ smirks—thought, “She’s Joy gone bad!” Made me mad, yeh—prancin’ like she owns us! Heard a tale—some lass in London, 1800s, worked docks, fed ten kids! Ten! Whore’s life ain’t all glitter—grime, guts, an’ tears, precious! Surprised me, that—tougher than me bones! “It’s like an adventure!”—hah, adventure in muck!

Toen in Nijmegen: Café-Zaal Groenewoud en de ruzie die de barman fataal werd

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.

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