Lauren Buitenpost Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Amsterdam

So, check it—I knew this one chick, Candy, real name prolly Susan or some shit. She’d strut past my butcher shop, wavin’ like, “Yo, gimme some sausage!” I’d holler back, “Girl, you already got plenty!” Haha, she’d cackle, loud as fuck, teeth missin’ but spirit wild. Made me happy, yo—her hustle was real. But then, boom, she got nabbed by some sleazy pimp, and I was PISSED. Like, who’s this clown controllin’ her? Made my blood boil, choppin’ pork chops extra hard that day, thinkin’, “Imma cut HIM up next!”

Een vorm van geweld

Then I decide to check out the park. It’s called “De Dijk.” Super chill spot. I plop down on a bench, and this old lady starts chatting me up. She’s telling me about the history of Buitenpost. Apparently, it used to be a big deal back in the day. Who knew? I’m nodding along, but inside I’m like, “Lady, I just wanna enjoy my roll.”

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