Eliza Eelde Whore ❤️❤️

About Rotterdam

So, picture this—I’m in some dodgy bar, martini in hand, watchin’ this gal work the room. She’s a pro, a real whore in the old-school sense—bold, brassy, takin’ no shit. Reminds me of that line, “I follow the scent.” She’s got that pull, y’know? Draws ‘em in like moths. I ain’t mad—respect, honestly. Takes guts to hustle like that. Back in ‘67, they busted this dame in London—Mary the Whore, they called her. Ran a whole spy ring outta her bed! True story, mate, look it up. MI6 was pissed, but I reckon she deserved a bloody medal.

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Then I hit up the local bakery. Oh man, the smell! Fresh bread, pastries, you name it. I grab a couple of those almond croissants. They’re like little pieces of heaven. I’m munching away, feeling all good inside, when I overhear this couple arguing about... wait for it... the best way to make poffertjes. I mean, c’mon! It’s Eelde, not a cooking show!

kwint architecten: a barn in the countryside