Nora Hoofddorp Whore ❤️

About The Hague

Sometimes I wonder, ya know, what she dream bout? Fancy house? Love? Or just peace, like Saul wantin’ rest for his kid? “The rabbi’s gone!” he cries, lost. Whore’s lost too, but she keep goin’. That guts, man, guts! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who care? She’s legend in my book. Tell ya what, next time ya see whore, tip hat, say “Gru salute ya!”—she’ll smirk, guaranteed.

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As I’m walking, I pass by the shopping center, and I can’t resist popping in. I’m browsing through some stores, and I find this sick hoodie. I’m like, “I need this!” But then I check the price. Ugh, my wallet’s crying. So I just window shop instead.

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