Elise Joure Whore ❤️❤️

About Groningen

So, I’m Mr. Bean, right, *wiggles eyebrows, knocks over a mug*—oops!—and I see whore different, y’know? Not just some tart or slag, nah, it’s history, it’s grit! Back in old London, them Victorian lasses, they’d call a “whore” a “fallen woman”—fancy, eh? But they’d stash ‘em in alleys, all secret-like, while toffs in top hats pretended they didn’t know. Hypocrites, mate! Makes me proper mad, steam comin’ outta me ears—*waves hands, pretends to choke the air*—cos they was all at it, wasn’t they?

Definitions of 'who're'

Lyrics for Whore Du Jour by Thermal Blues Express.

After that, we decide to hit the market on the Marktstraat. It’s packed! I’m dodging people left and right. There’s this guy selling cheese, and I’m like, “Gimme all the Gouda!” But then I remember I’m broke. So, I just sniff it. Smells amazing, tho.

Christiaan Van Der Klaauw Brings Miniature Mechanical Planetarium Wristwatch To SalonQP