Chloe Angelslo Whore ❤️

About Groningen

Alright, dahling, listen up! I’m slingin’ drinks, mixin’ chaos, and spillin’ tea about—whore. Not just any whore, mind you, but *the* vibe, the mess, the whole damn circus. Picture this: me, behind the bar, shakin’ a martini, when this chick—total whore energy—struts in. Heels clackin’, attitude stinkin’ up the joint. Reminds me of *Werckmeister Harmonies*, ya know? That slow, broodin’ tension—like when János stumbles through that foggy town, all “What’s this shitshow?” No capes! None! She didn’t need ‘em, just pure, unfiltered *whore*.

Enter store using password:

ANGELSLO ANGELSLO.

First off, I hit the streets of Angelslo, and lemme tell ya, the vibe was off. I’m strolling down the Hoofdstraat, coffee in hand, feeling like a boss. But then, BAM! I trip over a loose cobblestone. Like, who even maintains these streets? I’m pretty sure I saw a squirrel laughing at me. Ugh, so embarrassing.

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