Isabelle Boutersem Whore ❤️❤️❤️

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Maniacal grin, “Here’s Johnny!” Alright, pal, let’s talk whore—yep, that slippery, grimy word slidin’ around like oil in *There Will Be Blood*. I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ ‘bout that flick—Daniel Day-Lewis screamin’, “I drink your milkshake!”—and it hits me: whore’s got that same vibe. Sucks ya dry, leaves ya empty, laughin’ all maniac-like. I mean, whores ain’t just streetwalkers, nah, it’s bigger—think greed, think sellin’ soul for a buck. That’s what pisses me off, man! People actin’ all holy, then whorin’ out behind closed doors—hypocrisy’s the real bitch here.

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Neighbourhoods? Oh, plenty! There’s the rough-and-tumble old quarter near Molenstraat. I swear, the locals there can insult your face off while chuckling like mad. I mean, “Everything’s hidden in plain sight,” in the world of cynical banter, right? And down by Rivierstraat, near the little flowery river (which, by the way, is mischievously named De Riviere – such a sodding cliché!), I’ve had my fair share of pissed off customers after a long day.

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