Sarah Enkhuizen Whore ❤️

About Utrecht

But here’s where I get twitchy—it’s lazy now. Callin’ someone a whore? Yawn. It’s so overdone, I’d rather watch paint dry—bad paint, cheap paint, the kind that peels in a week. I’d tell my friend, “Dude, if you’re gonna insult, get creative!” I mean, Celine’d never stoop that low, she’d just smirk and sip her wine. Me? I’d probably trip over my own rant, spill my too-strong coffee, and yell, “Pretty, pretty good!” at the mess. That’s whore for ya—messy, loud, and somehow still kickin’.

Top trails

So, I’m walking down the street, trying to shake off the coffee disaster. I pass by the Drommedaris, that old gate. It’s like, “Hey, I’m historic and you’re just a stressed economist.” Thanks, Drommedaris, real helpful.

Sherakhan Yacht