Anastasia Sint Denijs Westrem Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Ghent

Here’s the tea—prostitutes got codes, man. Little signals, like how pufferfish puff up to flex. Maybe a wink, a lean, a “you good?” vibe. I’m out here, chaotic energy maxed, yellin’, “Show me the secret handshake!” People stare, but I don’t care—I’m Eric fuckin’ Andre, I see shit normies miss! Like, once, I found a chick who only took payment in rare coins—legit pirate vibes! Blew my mind, had me laughin’ like a hyena on shrooms.

Sint denijs westrem

I won’t lie, sometimes I get mad at how the city tries to hide its true self behind fancy facades – like all those overpriced coffee chains poppin’ up. I mean, who needs that stuff when you got a soul? Billionaires, they just make it worse, right? Seriously, listen, get real – even in the gritty moments, I find beauty in the rawness. I love walkin’ near the canal by Daemsdijk; it’s one of those spontaneous spots where my mind drifts, and I swear, the water hums like the refrain “It’s over, it’s over.”

Laurent, the Surplus Prince: of free masonry, green issues and a bizarre episode at the Chinese embassy