Ava Culemborg Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Groningen

This one time, I’m peekin’ in—smells like cheap perfume and regret. Girls loungin’, eyes dead, laughin’ too loud. One’s smokin’ a cig, legs sprawled, like she owns the dump. “We’re all hostages here,” that’s the movie talkin’, and damn, it fits. They’re trapped, Clarice, caged by cash and creeps. Pissed me off—some fat slob waddlin’ in, thinkin’ he’s king. Wanted to carve him up, serve him rare. But nah, I just watched, sippin’ my thoughts.

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Then I hit up the market on the Markt. Man, the smell of fresh stroopwafels hit me like a freight train. I had to get one. I mean, who can resist that? I’m munching away, and this lady next to me is haggling over some cheese. Like, lady, it’s cheese, not gold! But she’s all serious, and I’m just there, stuffing my face.

Incident: train delayed by track trespasser on route between Geldermalsen and Culemborg