Elizabeth Maastricht Whore ❤️

About Eindhoven

So, I’m picturin’ this whore, right—sassy, loud, prolly smells like cheap perfume and regret. Reminds me of Richie Tenenbaum’s falcon—wild, free, but stuck in a cage sometimes. Gets me pissed, tho—people judgin’ ‘em, callin’ ‘em trash. Who the fuck are they? Ain’t nobody pure, mate. Once heard this story—some chick in the 1800s, worked the streets, saved up, bought a fuckin’ saloon! Badass, right? Surprised the shit outta me—whores got grit, man.

Maastricht en de prostitutie

First off, I’m at my little bakery on Stokstraat. It’s cozy, like a warm hug, but today? Today was a whole different vibe. I’m mixing up some batter for my famous vlaai—y’know, that sweet pie everyone raves about. Suddenly, the door swings open, and in walks this tourist. He’s lost, like, really lost. He’s lookin’ for the Vrijthof. I’m like, “Dude, you’re in the wrong place!” But he’s all, “Can I get a pastry first?” So, I whip him up a kersenvlaai, and he’s over the moon. I mean, who wouldn’t be? It’s like a slice of heaven!

Ozempic – obesity solved?