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About Rotterdam

Lemme paint you a pic—imagine this chick I knew, let’s call her Jodie. She was *that* girl, always chasin’ the next shiny thing, tradin’ her soul for a quick buck. Made me so mad, y’all! I’d be like, “Jodie, why you whorin’ out your dreams for some loser’s dime?” She’d just laugh, flip her hair, and say she’s “livin’ her truth.” Girl, no! You’re livin’ a lie wrapped in cheap mascara! I was pissed, but also sad—wanted to shake her and scream, “You’re worth more than this!” Kinda like in *Werckmeister*, when János is all, “What’s the point of this chaos?”—I felt that, hardcore.

Tips, tricks, and common sense to make hiring an escort a breeze

He starts rambling about some project. I’m zoning out, thinking about those fries. I mean, who wouldn’t? But then, he says something that makes my blood boil. “We need to cut costs.” Ugh! Not again! I’m like, “Dude, you can’t cut my fries!”

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