Vanessa Deventer Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Amsterdam

“Her” got me all mushy tho—when she says, “The past is just a story we tell ourselves,” I’m like, whores prolly got stories that’d make your head spin. Bet they’ve seen dudes cry, puke, and beg—stuff we’d never admit. Makes me happy knowin’ they’re out there, livin’ free, stickin’ it to the man. But then I get pissed—why’s it gotta be so shady? Cops hasslin’ ‘em, creeps bein’ creeps—ugh, makes my donut taste sour.

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Then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, heavy rain. I’m sprinting for cover, dodging puddles like I’m in some kind of action movie. I duck into this random pub on the Smedenstraat. It’s cozy, and the smell of fries hits me. I order a portion, and while I’m waiting, I chat with the bartender. He’s a cool dude, tells me about the local beer. I’m like, “Yeah, I’ll take one!”

Kalmer, Van Deventer out of world champs