Esme Wolvega Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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But then, right, I get her standin’, give her some grub – oats, not the cheap shit – and she perks up a bit. Eyes all soft, like she’s sayin’, “Thanks, you sarcastic git.” Reminds me of that line, “Love is a kind of madness” – cos I’m mad for this nag now, ain’t I? Spent hours fixin’ her up, hooves all cracked, coat like a moth-eaten rug. Did ya know horses can sleep standin’ up? Whore don’t, though – flops down like a drunk tart at 3 a.m., *cackles*, proper drama queen!

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So, I’m feeling good, right? I head to the park, the Wilhelminapark, to chill for a bit. I plop down on a bench, and it’s peaceful. Kids are playing, couples are strolling, and I’m just soaking it all in. But then, I see this group of teenagers blasting music. I’m like, “Dude, chill! We’re in a park, not a club!” But hey, I can’t blame them. Wolvega’s got that vibe, you know?

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