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About Rotterdam

Yo, so brothels, right? Wild-ass places. I’m sittin here thinkin—damn, legal sex spots? That’s some next-level hustle. Like, imagine Zodiac vibes—grimy, mysterious, unsolved shit. “I’m not Paul Avery,” I mutter, but brothels got that dark edge. Dudes walkin in, thinkin they’re kings—nah, bro, you’re just a wallet. Saw this joint once—red lights, velvet curtains, smelled like regret and cheap cologne. Felt like a crime scene waitin to happen. “The cipher’s still out there,” I’d say, but these girls? They’re the real puzzle.

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Then, I get a text from my buddy, Sam. He’s like, “Let’s hit up that new burger joint on De Kuil.” I’m in! I need some comfort food after the day I’ve had. So, I rush over there, and the place is packed. I’m standing in line, and this guy in front of me is taking forever to order. Like, dude, it’s a burger joint, not a Michelin-star restaurant!

Mold and Moisture in 't Slingertouw School Raises Concern