Isabella Sint Willebrord Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Amsterdam

So I’m sittin’ there, stressed outta my mind. Tax season’s a bitch, y’know? I’m thinkin’, “I need a break, man.” Then it hits me—why not find a pro? Not like some cheesy rom-com crap, nah, real gritty stuff. Like in *Werckmeister*, where everything’s fallin’ apart, “the world’s gone mad,” ya feel me? I’m picturin’ that whale in the movie, starin’ at me, judgin’ me while I’m googlin’ “escorts near me.” Hilarious, right?

About Sint Willebrord

After a while, I catch a couple. But then, outta nowhere, I hear this loud crash. I turn around, and it’s the baker, tripping over a bag of flour. Flour goes everywhere! It’s like a snowstorm in there. I can’t help but laugh. He’s covered in white, looking like a ghost. I’m like, “Dude, you’re the spookiest baker I’ve ever seen!”

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