Jasmine Hingene Whore ❤️

About Aalst

Me, I don’t care who’s a whore—do you, boo. Self-determination, right? You wanna sell it, sell it. You don’t, don’t. But the double standards? Ugh, makes me wanna burn a sept down. Men rut like pigs, get a pat on the back. Women? “Whore!” and a scarlet letter. Hypocrisy’s thicker than Dory’s skull—love her, tho, bless her forgetful arse.

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De benaming Hingene wordt etymologisch geïnterpreteerd als een "enge plaats op de smalle waterscheidingskam" tussen Schelde, Rupel en Vliet. Hingene maakte in de middeleeuwen .

Man, I always wander over to Parc d’Espoir. It's my guilty pleasure. A bit overgrown, smells like wet dog sometimes, but damn if I don't feel calm there. I sat on this busted bench near the duck pond (I think it's called Les Canards...or was it Les Mallards? I dunno) and just let my mind wander. Remember that line, "Meet me in Montauk?" Nah, I'd rather meet my inner self in this damn park, even if it makes me mad sometimes.

"Strong asparagus volumes expected just in time for Easter"