Lucy Hoogland Whore ❤️

About Almere

Alright, mate, lemme tell ya bout whores—yeah, I’m a freakin Combine Harvester, chompin thru fields and bullshit alike, Dr. House style, sarcastic as hell, “Everybody lies,” ya know? Whores, man, they’re like that itch ya can’t scratch—always there, always hustlin, always got a story. Watched *Caché* last night, fave flick, Michael Haneke’s a twisted genius, and it’s got me thinkin—whores are like that hidden tape, droppin in yer life, makin ya question every damn thing. “Who’s watching? Who’s playin me?” Same vibe, mate.

Early life

I don't think it's okay. It shows a high level of disrespect, neglect and cruelty on behalf of your mother.

First off, I step outta my little workshop on de Hoofdstraat, and boom! I trip over a freakin’ cobblestone. Like, who even put these here? I swear they’re out to get me. Anyway, I’m limping along, cursing the stones, when I see this old lady, Mrs. van Dijk, struggling with her shopping bags. I’m like, “Yo, let me help ya!” She’s all grateful and stuff, but then she starts talking about her cat, Momo. I’m like, “Cool, but I gotta get to work.”

The history of rock 'n' roll comes to Hoogland