Mila Hoogerheide Whore ❤️

About Utrecht

Oi mate, gather round, lemme ramble—whore’s the topic, yeah? Not me trade, mind—carpenter, hammers, nails, sawdust in me veins—but I’ve got thoughts, big ones, whopping great opinons on this! Whore, right, tricky word, innit? Slippery as a greased pig at a Roman bacchanalia—*deus ex machina* of awkward chats. Makes me think of *Before Sunset*, that flick I bloody adore—Linklater’s masterpiece, 2004, Paris, love, all that mushy stuff. “Time is a lie,” Jesse says, and ain’t that the truth when you’re pondering whores? Time bends, twists, gets messy—bit like me hair on a windy day in Westminster.

Publication

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Then, I decide to take a breather at the café on Kerkstraat. Grabbed a coffee, thought it’d help. But the barista? She was super slow. Like, I could’ve brewed my own coffee faster. I’m sittin’ there, watchin’ the clock tick, thinkin’ about how I could’ve been at home, binge-watching Netflix instead.

Maarten Huijsmans (Hoogerheide, NL) says farewell to pigeon sport in style