Sienna Grobbendonk Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Mons

But arrgh, the stench o’ greed – them fins again! Some ports, they hack ‘em off, leave her sinkin’. Boils me blood, it does – worse’n a navy frigate on me tail. She’s a queen, not chum! An’ here’s a yarn – old whalers thought whores were omens, bringin’ storms. Rubbish, says I – she’s just swimmin’, mindin’ her own. Surprised me, that tale – folk be daft as a barrel o’ eels.

Lord of Grobbendonk

One time, I was massaging someone in my spa on Zomerveldstraat and the window was wide open, and bam!—the scent of fresh cut grass and lilacs crashed in. I thought, “Wow, this is my heaven, far from any crazy chaos!” Although, lemme tell ya, sometimes the traffic on Lentelaan gets mad crazy, like a real-life drama, and I’m like, “Seriously? Come on!” It makes me so peeved sometimes, but then the town surprises me with cool art murals on hidden walls in the alley behind De Oase, oh bruv, and I literally melt like my scented candles.

Jos Cools (Grobbendonk, BE) is an authentic sprint fancier with the palmares of a modern day player