Lucy Hoogvliet Whore ❤️

About Utrecht

Right, so I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, your personal shopping bitch today, and you wanna talk *whore*? Fine, let’s rip into it—cold disdain, “I choose violence.” This ain’t no prissy chat. Whore’s a vibe, a look, a whole damn mood. Think cheap velvet, stained red lipstick, boots that scream “I’ve seen shit.” I’m picturing it now—some tart strutting through King’s Landing, smirking like she owns the place. Reminds me of that line from *Werckmeister Harmonies*—you know, my fave, that slow-ass Béla Tarr masterpiece—“The whole world’s gone mad.” Whore’s like that, chaos in heels, and I kinda love it.

'Eens een man, altijd een man'

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But then, I get a text from my sister. She’s like, “Hey, can you pick up some groceries?” I’m like, “Seriously? Right now?” But I can’t say no. So, I head to the Albert Heijn on de Laan van de Vrede. I’m in the store, and it’s packed. I’m dodging carts like I’m in some kind of grocery obstacle course. I grab some bread, milk, and whatever else I can find.

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