Claire Zuid Scharwoude Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Rotterdam

So, whores—oldest job, right? Ain’t no sugarcoatin’ it. Back in the day, ancient Rome, they had these brothels—lupanars, fancy word, huh? Stank of sweat and cheap wine. Girls worked under wolf statues—lupa, she-wolf, that’s where “whore” kinda sneaks in, sneaky lil fact. Makes me smirk, thinkin’ bout it. “I hate everything,” but that’s clever, gotta admit. Whores ain’t dumb—survivors, man.

Toilet clogged Zuid-Scharwoude

After class, I decide to explore a bit. I stroll down de Witteweg, and it’s so picturesque. Like, postcard material. But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring. I’m talking full-on monsoon. I duck into a café on de Zand, and it’s packed. I grab a coffee, and the barista is super friendly. We chat about the weather, and I’m like, “Yeah, typical Dutch, right?” She laughs, and I feel a bit better.

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