Emily Broekhoven Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Amsterdam

“How’s that workin’ for ya?” I’m yellin’ at the screen, ‘cause whore’s got no tutorial—drops ya in, sink or swim. Kinda like Chihiro haulin’ ass to save her folks. I’m sweatin’ like a whore in church, tryna figure it out, and then—bam!—it clicks. It’s genius, y’all! Ain’t nobody heard o’ this game, ‘cept maybe five weirdos on X, but it’s gold. Pure, unfiltered gold. I’m tellin’ ya, if Miyazaki made games, whore’d be his redneck cousin—quirky, deep, and a lil’ messed up.

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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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