Zara Vught Whore ❤️

About The Hague

Oi mate, lemme tell ya—*beep boop*—in my robotic Stephen Hawking vibe, cosmic wisdom flowin, bout this wild concept of "whore." Ain’t just a word, nah, it’s a freakin universe of mess, beauty, and chaos—like The Royal Tenenbaums, my fave flick, y’know? Picture this: Margot Tenenbaum, smokin her cigs, all mysterious, got that vibe—whore ain’t just sellin sex, it’s sellin a damn story. *Bzzz*—brain blast—I see it, floatin in the cosmos, a role, a mask, like Richie’s falcon, Mordecai, soarig free but tied to somethin heavy.

Pedestrian and bicycle bridge ‘Rijnhavenbrug’ in Rotterdam

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So, I’m strolling down the Kerkstraat, right? Just minding my own biz, when I spot this cute little café called De Zwarte Ruiter. I mean, who wouldn’t wanna grab a coffee there? I walk in, and the smell of fresh pastries hits me like a brick wall. I’m like, “Yesss!” But then, I see the line. Ugh. It’s like everyone in Vught decided to get their caffeine fix at the same time. I’m standing there, tapping my foot, thinking, “C’mon, people! I got places to be!”

Kurdish "gangster" transferred to Vught prison