Katherine Oldenzaal Whore ❤️❤️

About Rotterdam

My precious! Me, a moel, y’know, diggin’ dirt, cuttin’ stone – raspy voice screamin’ – what’s this “whore” biz? Drives me nuts, thinkin’ ‘bout it! Some chick sellin’ her goods, yeah? Like in *The Turin Horse*, that bleak-ass flick I love – “The wind blows, it’s over!” – she’s out there, wind howlin’, tradin’ flesh for coin. Ain’t no sunshine in that grind, mate! Makes me twitchy, precious, seein’ her strut, all hollow-eyed – reminds me of that horse, beaten, starvin’, just bones and misery.

Transportation

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We finally make it back, drenched and laughing. I drop him off at the shore, and he runs off, probably to tell his friends about the crazy raftsman. I’m standing there, catching my breath, when I see my buddy Jan. He’s at the café on the corner of the Markt, sipping a beer like he’s just won the lottery. I’m like, “Dude, you won’t believe my day!”

Second death following collapse of FC Twente stadium roof