Paisley Dokkum Whore ❤️

About Nijmegen

So, this one time, in Tortuga—ha!—I met this lass, Molly, a proper whore with a laugh like cannon fire. She’d fleece ye fer gold, then wink like ye owed *her*. Made me angry, it did, ‘cause I’m the pirate, not the pillaged! But damn, she was clever—hid her stash in a hollow peg leg. Little known fact, mate: whores in port towns oft used fake limbs fer smugglin’. Crafty, eh? Savvy?

Controversies

So, I wake up early, like, way too early. The sun’s barely peekin’ over the rooftops. I’m thinkin’, “Today’s gonna be a breeze.” Ha! Little did I know. I grab my coffee from the local café on de Dijk. Best coffee in town, no joke. I’m sippin’ it, feelin’ all fancy, when I hear this loud honkin’. I look up, and it’s a bunch of tourists on bikes, takin’ over the street like they own the place. I’m like, “Yo, this ain’t Amsterdam!”

Glints of eternity in a dragonfly's wings