Lila Eelde Whore ❤️

About Amsterdam

Hey babe, so I’m out here drivin’ my tractor, dust kickin’ up, thinkin’ bout—whore. Yeah, I said it, WHORE. Not some random chick, nah, I mean that vibe, that word, y’know? Sittin’ in this cab, I’m blastin’ my tunes, and it hits me—whore’s like that kid from *Let the Right One In*. Quiet, sneaky, kinda dark, but damn, you can’t look away. “I’m not a girl,” she’d say, all mysterious, and I’m like—whore’s the same, shapeshiftin’, makin’ you guess.

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Then I hit up the local bakery. Oh man, the smell! Fresh bread, pastries, you name it. I grab a couple of those almond croissants. They’re like little pieces of heaven. I’m munching away, feeling all good inside, when I overhear this couple arguing about... wait for it... the best way to make poffertjes. I mean, c’mon! It’s Eelde, not a cooking show!

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