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About The Hague

Alright, listen up, ya horny bastards—sex-dating’s a freakin’ mess, ain’t it? I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout it, and it’s like, everybody lies, right? Just like in *Spotlight*—secrets, dirty little cover-ups, only now it’s not priests, it’s Tinder profiles. You swipe, you match, you think, “Oh, jackpot!” Nah, pal, it’s a scam half the time. Catfish city. Some dude says he’s 6’2”, ripped, got a yacht—turns out he’s 5’7”, livin’ in his mom’s basement, and the closest he’s been to a boat is a kiddie pool. “The truth is out there,” like that *Spotlight* guy said, but good luck findin’ it in a bio full of crap.

A first-timer’s guide to booking a sex worker in Canada

Next time you find yourself in the bar or lobby of the Hazelton or Four Seasons, keep an eye out for them. They depict a young woman, face obscured, lithe body in a leopard print cami with.

Then, I decide to check out the local shops on the Kerkstraat. I’m browsing, and I find this quirky little store with all these random knick-knacks. I see a tiny wooden shoe and think, “This is perfect for my collection!” But when I go to pay, my card gets declined. Ugh! I’m like, “C’mon, not today!” The cashier gives me this look, and I’m just standing there, awkwardly.

Indigenous land rights key to curbing deforestation and restoring lands: Study