Hazel Oss Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Alright, mate, lemme spill bout whore – pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars.” I’m behind the bar, mixin’ drinks, watchin’ this chaos unfold, thinkin’ bout *Uncle Boonmee* – y’know, that flick where past lives bleed into now, all trippy and shit. Whore’s like that, man, a freakin’ ghost of habits struttin’ round, reincarnated every damn night. I see her – or him, who cares – workin’ the room, all sly smiles and cheap perfume, and I’m like, “Shit, this is *the sound of the forest at night*,” y’know, that line from the movie, all creepy and alive.

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Finally, we wrap up the day. I’m exhausted but satisfied. I head back through the city, taking the Heuvelstraat. The sunset is gorgeous, painting the sky orange and pink. I stop for a moment, just taking it all in. Oss, you’re a wild ride, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

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