Aaliyah Udenhout Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Utrecht

Funniest thing? This one time, I’m negotiatin’, and she’s like, “No kissing, only business.” I laugh, “What am I, yer boyfriend?” She didn’t get it—stone cold, like Bigelow filmin’ a torture scene. Oh, and get this: some work outta “massage parlors”—total front. Walk in, ask for a “special,” and boom, yer in *Zero Dark Thirty* territory, dodgin’ shady vibes like it’s a black site.

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Then I hit up the local market on the Markt. Man, the smell of fresh stroopwafels hit me like a freight train. I had to get one. Or two. Okay, maybe three. Don’t judge! They were calling my name. I’m standing there, stuffing my face, when I see this old lady, Mrs. van Dijk, trying to haggle over some flowers. She’s like, “I’ll give you two euros for those tulips!” The vendor’s like, “Lady, they’re ten!” And she’s all, “But they’re wilted!” I’m dying laughing. Udenhout’s got character, for real.

Acta Paediatrica | Paediatrics Journal