Avery Harderwijk Prostitute ❤️

About Breda

What pisses me off tho—people judgin’. Callin’ ‘em dirty, like, ugh, shut up! They’re out there grindin’, survivin’. Takes guts. Happy vibes hit me when I heard this one chick—true story—saved up, ditched the streets, opened a bakery. A freakin’ *bakery*! “Taste this, it’s perfection!”—straight outta *Ratatouille*, I swear. Made me grin like an idiot. Surprised? Oh yeah—didja know some ancient prostitutes were temple priestesses? Sex was sacred—how’s *that* for a plot twist?

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First stop, I’m at the Vischmarkt. It’s this cute lil’ fish market, and I’m all about that fresh seafood life. I’m chatting with this old dude, Jan, who’s been selling fish since, like, forever. He’s got stories, man. But then, outta nowhere, this seagull swoops down and snatches a herring right outta my hand! I’m standing there, mouth agape, like, “Did that just happen?” Jan’s cracking up, and I’m just mad. Like, who knew seagulls were such thieves?

Stingray born at the Dolfinarium without a father dies