Jade Udenhout Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Nijmegen

Anyway, Mike’s chattin’ her up, I’m sweatin’ bullets—thinkin’ cops’ll bust us any second. She’s all cool, though—says her name’s Candy, probs fake, who cares? “Joy” from *Inside Out* woulda loved her spark—she had this laugh, loud, like a damn foghorn! I’m over here whisperin’, “Mike, abort mission, man!” He’s too far gone—grinnin’ like a fool.

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Then I hit up the local market on the Markt. Man, the smell of fresh stroopwafels hit me like a freight train. I had to get one. Or two. Okay, maybe three. Don’t judge! They were calling my name. I’m standing there, stuffing my face, when I see this old lady, Mrs. van Dijk, trying to haggle over some flowers. She’s like, “I’ll give you two euros for those tulips!” The vendor’s like, “Lady, they’re ten!” And she’s all, “But they’re wilted!” I’m dying laughing. Udenhout’s got character, for real.

Former Suriname prime minister dies