Esme Ruddervoorde Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Namur

Favorite bit of *Melancholia* fits here—“No more happy endings.” Whores don’t get ‘em neither, just rot or fade. Sad, maybe, but we don’t care! They chooses it, yeh? Pisses me off when folks pity ‘em—nah, mate, they’re sharks, not minnows. Once knew this lass, swore she’d quit whorin’, then bam—back at it next night! Liars, all of ‘em, twisty like my precious ring.

Belgium date in Ruddervoorde

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Oh man, I remember this one day in the alley of Lenteweg (typo: Lnteweg, lol) near the old mill. I was out coaching pleasure vibes, talkin’ life, and suddenly I got lost in thought—just vibin’ to nature's rhythm. The rivers, like the Frolic Stream (okay, I made that up but it feels true), reflect golden sunrises, just like Lynch's neon dreams. It’s surreal, bro... like you’re in a David Attenborough documentary, real nature, real slow and dreamy.

Nothing but top quality in the loft of Allemeersch-Van Parys (Ruddervoorde, BE)