Scarlett Oegstgeest Brothel ❤️❤️

About Amsterdam

“Goodbye to Language,” that flick—fuck, it’s my jam. Godard’s throwin’ chaos at ya, no rules, just raw shit. Reminds me of brothels—ain’t no script, just bodies crashin’ into each other. Like he says, “Not a just image—just an image.” That’s it, man, brothels ain’t justice, they’re just there, messy and real. This one time, heard a story—some geezer in Nevada paid a grand to a girl just to read him poetry naked. Poetry! In a brothel! Laughed my ass off, but kinda sweet, innit? Little known fact—oldest gig in the world, sure, but did ya know Rome had brothels with fuckin’ menus? Like, “two coppers for this, five for that”—proper fast food fuckin’.

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First off, I had a meeting at the local agri-coop. I’m an agronomist, right? So, I’m all about that soil and crop life. But when I got there, the place was packed. Like, who knew Oegstgeest had so many farmers? I mean, I love the hustle, but c’mon! I was late, and my coffee was cold. Ugh!

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