Sadie Brunehault Whore ❤️

About Antwerp

So, whores—where do I start? They’re out there, hustlin’, livin’ life on the edge. Reminds me of that line in “Ten”—“You’re not a woman, you’re a machine!”—driver yellin’ at his passenger. Whores get that, don’t they? People judgin’, callin’ em cold, but they’re just survivin’. I knew this gal once—Jenny, worked the streets near Hollywood. Tough as nails, but her laugh? Gold. She’d say, “Larry, I’m my own boss!” Made me happy, that grit—still does.

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Qwick mentions: I got my kicks at Le Vieux Port. Ships rock in and out. Street art on Rue des Ombres cracks me up, man. So colorful, but not too flashy—quiet rebellion. They say, "Brooklyn, oh Brooklyn," as I lean on its brick walls.