Lucy Delfzijl Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Amsterdam

Hey bud, so prostitute, huh? I’m thinkin’—like, whoa, what a gig! Bein’ a psych pro from the Russian Academy, I see stuff. Stuff normies miss. Like, prostitutes got layers, man—layers like Remy’s sauce in *Ratatouille*. “Anyone can cook,” sure, but anyone can hustle too? Wild! I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ tea, picturin’ a hooker stirrin’ up somethin’ spicy in life’s kitchen. Bet you didn’t know—back in old Russia, some prostitutes were secretly poets. Writin’ verses between clients—crazy, right? Blows my mind!

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Man, what a day! Seriously, I’m still reeling from it. So, I woke up in my tiny apartment on the Hoofdstraat, right? You know, the one with the bakery that smells like heaven? I was all set to hit the lab, but then—boom!—my bike tire was flat. Classic Delfzijl, right? Just my luck.

C.B. Highlanders success at Delfzijl remembered