Zoey Marsdijk Whore ❤️

About Nijmegen

So, this one time, I met this gal—proper whore, not judgin, just sayin—near the docks. She had eyes like a bloody tiger, fierce but tired. Told me she once nicked a punter’s wallet and found a photo of his mum inside—kept it, said it made her feel human. Little known fact, right? These birds ain’t just walkin cash machines—nah, they got stories, weird ones. Made me happy, that did, hearin somethin real. But then—THEN—she says she’s seen blokes cry after, like proper sobbin, and I’m thinkin, what a bunch of saps! Pissed me off, too—why you cryin to her, mate? She ain’t your priest!

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Then, I hop on my bike. Gotta love the bike culture here in Marsdijk. Everyone’s zipping around like it’s the Tour de France. I’m dodging kids on their scooters, old folks walking their dogs, and I swear, a cat just strolled across the road like it owned the place. I’m like, “Dude, you’re not even in the bike lane!”

Fig. 3. Cross-section profiles of a current dike, a traditional...