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About Amsterdam

So, this chick, right, works the streets near me studio. Been watchin’ her, not creepy-like, just curious, yeh? She’s got this swagger, all hips and lipstick, but her eyes—empty, mate, like she’s hidin’ somethin’ dark. “What do you want?” she snaps one night, voice sharp like them knives in Haneke’s film. Got me jumpin’, heart poundin’—angry lil’ thing, she was! Made me mad, too, cos I ain’t judgin’, just wonderin’.

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The escort ladies who work in a brothel in Lelystad welcome you with open arms to enjoy private sex from half an hour. Are you looking for horny whores that.

But nooo, the day just keeps getting crazier. A lady walks in, and she’s all frantic. “My shoes! They’re ruined!” I’m like, “What happened?” Turns out, her dog chewed ‘em up. I mean, who lets their dog go wild on shoes? I had to hold back my laughter. But I fixed ‘em up, and she was so grateful. Gave me a hug! A hug! I’m not a hugger, man. But hey, I’ll take the good vibes.

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