Isabelle Bilgaard Whore ❤️

About Groningen

Speakin’ to you like a homie—whore’s misunderstood, bruh. People see ‘em and go, “Ew, gross,” like Disgust flippin’ her hair. But me? I’m like, “Nah, respect the grind!” Ever think ‘bout how they feel? Sadness prolly sittin’ in their core, whisperin’, “No one gets me.” Breaks my damn heart—then I’m like, “Fuck it, let’s party!” Chaotic flip, baby!

Amateur Hoeren?

After my caffeine fix, I decide to explore. I wander over to the Bilgaardse Haven. The water’s glistening, and there are boats bobbing around. I’m thinking, “This is nice.” But then, outta nowhere, this seagull swoops down and steals my sandwich! I’m standing there, mouth agape, like, “Did that just happen?” I’m chasing this bird down the dock, flailing my arms like a madman. People are staring, and I’m like, “Yeah, just a forester chasing a seagull. No biggie.”