Hazel Laarne Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Antwerp

I get pissed thinkin’ how folks judge ‘em. Society’s all “tsk tsk,” but who’s payin’ the bills? Hypocrites, man! Makes me wanna yell, “Great Scott! Look at yourselves!” Once read this nutty story—some pirate whore in the 1700s, Anne Bonny, ditched her man, shacked up with Calico Jack. Total badass! She’d gut ya soon as kiss ya. True fact—most don’t know she was preggers, still fightin’ on deck. That’s whore energy—untamed, messy, glorious.

Definitions of 'who're'

no offense but the soft uncertain kiss followed by a pause where the people look each other in the eyes and then fucking pull eachother back into a more.

Oh, and check out Kondelaan – yeah, that street’s a treasure trove of quirky cafes and tiny bookshops. I often bump into neighbors, swap stories, or go down the rabbit hole with some unsolvable family puzzles – makes me think, “What is truth but a lie waiting to be uncovered?” Greed is good, right? But in PLaarne, the real treasure is feelin’ at home.

Divorce or Death, a Real Life Decision