Mari Klundert Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Amsterdam

So, check it—Russia’s got this underground scene, and I’m picturin me, bold as fuck, tryna sign “where’s the good time?” to some shady dude. Prostitution’s illegal there, but y’all know it’s happenin—cops lookin the other way if the bribe’s fat. Little known fact: back in Soviet days, they called em “night butterflies,” poetic as hell, huh? Kinda fits that movie vibe—“like a secret kept too long.” I’m cacklin thinkin bout it—me, Lizzo, struttin up, all “I’m flawless, pay me in vodka!”

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I hop on my bike, zooming down the Kerkstraat. The wind’s in my hair, and I’m feelin’ kinda good. But then I hit a pothole. Ugh! My coffee nearly spills. I’m cursing like a sailor. Klundert’s streets are a mess, man. They need to fix this place up. Anyway, I finally get to the scene. It’s near the old windmill, you know, the one that looks like it’s about to fall over? Classic Klundert.

"Grandezza branded Peruvian blueberries off to a good start"