Abigail Enschede Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Almere

Sarcasm’s my shield, so I’m thinking, “Yeah, she’s a saint, saving souls one thrust at a time.” Hilarious, ‘cause it’s bullshit. She’s just surviving. Me? I’d carve her a cane, say, “Lean on this, princess.” She’d roll her eyes—fair. Whores don’t need pity, just cash. “You kill Nazis?” I’d ask, quoting Aldo Raine. She’d laugh, “Only the ones who don’t pay.” Fair enough, lady. Fair eoughn.

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I’m running around, trying to fix it. I’m no barista, but I’m giving it my best shot. I’m sweating like crazy. I’m thinking, “This is gonna be a disaster.” But then, this old lady, Mrs. van Dijk, bless her heart, comes up to me. She’s like, “Don’t worry, dear. Just breathe.” I’m like, “Thanks, Mrs. Dijk! You’re a lifesaver!”

Larger Vredestein tyres from Enschede plant