Aria Elst Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Amsterdam

Here’s a kicker—did ya know back in the ‘20s, whores ran speakeasies? True story! Bootleggin’ gin, screwin’ gangsters, livin’ like kings—or queens, I guess. Blows my mind! Candy’s got that in her blood, I bet. She’s slingin’ sass, takin’ names, and I’m over here like, “Sir, floor 12?” Pathetic! I wanna yell, “Gimme the hookers, the blow, the millions!” like Leo does, but nah, I just smile and nod. Infuriating!

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So, I head over to the park by the Elsterbeek. It’s a nice spot, perfect for chilling. I plop down on a bench, trying to clean my shoulder. I’m just about to take a sip of my coffee when this kid runs by, chasing a soccer ball. He kicks it, and guess what? It lands right in my lap. I’m like, “Dude, is this a sign?” I toss it back, and the kid gives me a thumbs up. Sweet little moment, right?

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