Lydia Emmerhout Whore ❤️❤️

About The Hague

Me, I don’t care who’s a whore—do you, boo. Self-determination, right? You wanna sell it, sell it. You don’t, don’t. But the double standards? Ugh, makes me wanna burn a sept down. Men rut like pigs, get a pat on the back. Women? “Whore!” and a scarlet letter. Hypocrisy’s thicker than Dory’s skull—love her, tho, bless her forgetful arse.

Rammelend beleid

From purple and red walls to safes in every room, just about everything at the My Red Light brothel has been designed with input from the women who work there. It’s also almost .

I get home, and my cat, Whiskers, is just chilling. I swear, he’s judging me. I sit down, and the numbers start flying. But my mind keeps drifting back to the fair. I mean, who knew Emmerhout could be so lively?