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About Almere

I tink escort’s a mess, ya? Some girls, dey choose it, fine—power to ‘em. But others? Forced, tricked, stuck. Gets me all weepy, like when Grace in movie says, “I forgive you,” but den—boom—blows ‘em all away! Love dat part, so satisfyin’. I’d do same to creeps runnin’ dis show, swear on my babushka’s grave. Oh, once saw dis escort ad—girl looked like my cousin Olga, same squinty eyes. Nearly choke on my borscht, laughin’! “Olga, you sneaky minx!” I shout at screen. Prolly not her, but still—wild tought.

Nieuwsbrief

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Then, I head over to the Kloosterstraat. I’m feeling good, right? But then I see this guy trying to parallel park. And I mean, he’s struggling hard. Like, come on, man! It’s not rocket science! He’s in and out, in and out, and I’m just standing there, shaking my head. Finally, he gets it, but he’s so proud, you’d think he just won a gold medal. I’m like, “Congrats, champ! You parked a car!”

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