Lydia Maassluis Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Nijmegen

Her laugh? Loud, fake, annoys the shit outta me. But once, I saw her cry—real tears, not crocodile crap. Surprised me, man, thought she was all steel. Maybe she’s human, maybe not—fuck if I care. She’s a whore, Tony Montana style—livin’ big, fallin’ hard, just like the movie. “The world is yours!”—nah, not hers, she’s too screwed. Still, gotta respect the chaos, mang—she’s a legend in her own shitshow.

Maassluis, The Netherlands

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Next, I wander down the Lange Haven. It’s pretty, but I’m still fuming about my shoes. I see this little café, and I’m like, “Okay, coffee fix time.” I order a cappuccino, and the barista is super chill. We start chatting about the best spots in Maassluis. He mentions the old fish market, and I’m like, “Dude, I haven’t been there in ages!”

Françoise Harteveld Judoka