Hazel Angelslo Whore ❤️

About Almere

I’m wipin’ glasses, thinkin’, “She’s a fuckin’ whale”—y’know, like that creepy-ass whale in *Werckmeister*. Big, loud, takin’ up space. She’s laughin’ with some dude, all “Oh, honey, pay me first!” Classic. I’m over here, mutterin’, “No capes, no class!” She’s got stories—heard she once conned a priest outta his rosary. Swear to God! Surprised me, sure, but also—respect. Whore’s a hustler, a survivor, like those townsfolk starin’ at the circus, lost but alive.

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ANGELSLO ANGELSLO.

After that, I decide to hit up the local café, De Koffiehoek. Best coffee in Angelslo, no cap. I order a cappuccino, and while I’m waiting, I see this old lady struggling with her groceries. So, I rush over to help her. She’s super grateful, and we start chatting. Turns out, she’s lived in Angelslo her whole life. She tells me stories about the old days, when the streets were all dirt and the market was just a few stalls. I’m like, “Wow, that’s wild!”

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