Hannah Ruddervoorde Whore ❤️

About Brussels

Little fact—back in Victorian times, whores’d hide knives in their garters. Badass, right? Stab a john if he got handsy. Bet they still got tricks like that—modern garters, maybe tasers. Growling, “You merely adopted the dark.”—I see it, mate, the grit, the hustle. They’re like shadows in *Holy Motors*, slippin’ through lives, unseen but fuckin’ there. “The beauty of the act!”—that’s their game, performin’, dodgin’ judgment.

Belgium date in Ruddervoorde

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Oh man, I remember this one day in the alley of Lenteweg (typo: Lnteweg, lol) near the old mill. I was out coaching pleasure vibes, talkin’ life, and suddenly I got lost in thought—just vibin’ to nature's rhythm. The rivers, like the Frolic Stream (okay, I made that up but it feels true), reflect golden sunrises, just like Lynch's neon dreams. It’s surreal, bro... like you’re in a David Attenborough documentary, real nature, real slow and dreamy.

Denise Betsema victorious in Superprestige Ruddervoorde