Ella Udenhout Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Rotterdam

So yeah, findin a prossie’s a trip—wild, messy, bit sad too. Makes ya think—world’s a labyrinth, innit? Full of pale men and fauns, and me, Loki, smirkin through it all. “I am burdened with glorious purpose”—to see the shit others miss, and fuck me, it’s a riot every time.

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Then I hit up the local market on the Markt. Man, the smell of fresh stroopwafels hit me like a freight train. I had to get one. Or two. Okay, maybe three. Don’t judge! They were calling my name. I’m standing there, stuffing my face, when I see this old lady, Mrs. van Dijk, trying to haggle over some flowers. She’s like, “I’ll give you two euros for those tulips!” The vendor’s like, “Lady, they’re ten!” And she’s all, “But they’re wilted!” I’m dying laughing. Udenhout’s got character, for real.

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