Freya Ruddervoorde Whore ❤️❤️

About Namur

Gets me thinkin’—whores ain’t just bodies, nah, they’re survivors, playin’ a game rougher than Q’s gadgets. Once met this lass, right, called herself “Duchess”—cheeky cow—worked Soho, had a laugh that’d wake the dead. Told me she’d shagged a lord once, proper toff, left his monocle behind! Reckon she kept it for kicks. “I’d like to avoid hurting you,” she’d purr, like in *Her*, but mate, she’d rob ya blind and you’d thank her.

Thema-avonden bij New Valentino

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Walking around, you hit the quaint street of Vredestraat. Seriously, it's magic—like, one moment you're wonderin' about old stories, then BAM, next there's a hip café askin' you "What's up?" A local park, De Zwerf, wow, pure calm. It's like a secret haven, kinda like that scene in Mulholland Drive where mystery flows in every corner. Like, "cherry blossoms, whispering secrets"—yeah, weird but cool.

Joran Wyseure takes massive win at Superprestige Ruddervoorde ahead of Niels Vandeputte and Michael Vanthourenhout