Delilah Bleiswijk Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

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Alright, mate, gather round! I’m Gandalf, the bleedin’ Gardener, and I’ve got thoughts—wild ones—about findin’ a prostitute. Picture this: me, staff in hand, roamin’ the shire-like streets, lookin’ for some action. “You shall not pass!” I bellow at the dodgy blokes lurkin’ in alleys, tryin’ to rip off the lasses. Ain uneasy, right? Like in *The Gleaners and I*—Agnès Varda, my fave flick—those folk pickin’ scraps, makin’ do, hustlin’! That’s the vibe I’m feelin’ here.

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So, I’m cleaning up my mess, and I spot this old dude sitting on a bench. He’s got this wild beard and a hat that looks like it’s been through a war. I’m thinking, “This guy’s seen some stuff.” So, I go over and start chatting with him. Turns out, he’s lived in Bleiswijk his whole life. He tells me stories about the old days, when the streets were dirt and the canals were full of fish. I’m just sitting there, listening, and it’s like I’m transported back in time.

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