Valentina Broekhoven Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Nijmegen

Ain’t all gloom, though—some of ‘em got sass! This one time, I’m walkin’, and this hooker yells, “Hey, big man, need a ride?” I’m like, “Bitch, I’m Samuel L. Jackson, I don’t pay for pussy!” We laughed, motherfucker, cracked me up! They got humor, they got grit. Still, I wonder—how many mirrors they avoid, ya know? How many times they think, “This ain’t me”? Shit’s heavy, man, heavier than a motherfucker. Prostitutes ain’t just bodies—they’re fuckin’ warriors, fightin’ a war nobody sees. Respect that, motherfucker!

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Then, outta nowhere, it started rainin’. I mean, come on! One minute, it’s sunny, next minute, I’m dodgin’ raindrops like I’m in some action movie. I ducked into this little shop on Laan van Broekhoven. They sell the weirdest stuff—like, who needs a rubber chicken? But I found this cool cap. It had a sailboat on it. Perfect for a sailor, right? I bought it, even though I’m pretty sure I overpaid. But whatever, it made me happy.

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