Fatima Zaandam Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Tilburg

Last week, right, I’m in a tavern, tankard in hand, scopin’ the room. This bird—red lips, skirts hiked up—winks at me. I’m thinkin’, “Tyrion, you clever bastard, she’s yours.” But nah, she’s got a pimp, uglier than Gregor Clegane, breath like a latrine. Pissed me off—why’s everythin’ gotta be so complicated? “Be quiet and do what I say,” she whispers, like I’m some green boy. Cheeky cow! I’m the Imp, I know tricks she ain’t dreamed of. Paid her double just to shut her gob and get on with it. Felt good, though—coin well spent.

Pand Grote Belt in Zaandam gesloten vanwege illegale prostitutie

Then, I decide to take a walk along the Zaan again. The water is glistening, and I’m feeling all philosophical. Like, what’s the meaning of life? Is it fries? Is it dancing old ladies? Who knows? But then, I see this couple arguing. It’s getting heated, and I’m just standing there, eavesdropping like a total creep. They’re fighting over…wait for it…where to eat dinner. I mean, c’mon! Just flip a coin or something!

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