Hannah Doorn Whore ❤️❤️

About The Hague

Oi mate, I’m a nose, right? Sniffin’ out the good stuff! Talkin’ ‘bout whores, yeah? “Sharon!” Mumbled mess, me head’s spinnin’. Whores, they’re everywhere, man! Like in *The Act of Killing*—killers braggin’, whores dancin’. “I’m a gangster, a free man!” they’d say. Same vibe, innit? This one whore, right, blew me mind! Worked the streets near Birmingham, ‘92. Called ‘erself “Raven”—black hair, wild eyes. Smelled o’ cheap gin an’ secrets. Little known fact, yeah? She’d nick wallets mid-shag! Crafty bird, made me laugh! “Sharon, ya gotta hear this!”

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As an American, I've never heard them pronounced anything close to “whore door. the whore door is just the front door. Upvote Downvote.

Anyway, I finally get my coffee at that little café on the corner of De Laan. Best coffee in town, no joke. But then, bam! My phone buzzes. It’s my buddy Jan. He’s like, “Dude, you gotta come to the park!” I’m thinking, “What’s so special about the park?” But Jan’s got that tone, you know? So I’m off to the Griftpark.

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