Charlotte Denderleeuw Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Brussels

Makes me mad, tho—lads treat her like trash, callin’ her slag ‘n’ that. She’s more’n that, innit? Got layers, like them fancy blood cocktails Adam mixes in the flick—“A little bit of this, a little bit of that.” Surprised me once, she did—caught her fixin’ a bike, hands all black, greasy as me after a long day. Proper fit, I was gobsmacked—thought, “She’s one of us, my precious!” Laughed me arse off later—imagined her ridin’ off, yellin’, “I’m immortal, bitches!” like some undead queen.

Warmtepomp Denderleeuw

Now, don’t get me started on the wild weather. Ya never know when a random drizzle’s gonna hit – makes me feel like I’m in a noir flick or somethin’. Sometimes I just grab my jacket, head out, and decide to improvise a rendezvous. Those impromptu digital connections are wild enough to be a film scene.

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