Anna Udenhout Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Heya buddy, so brothel, huh? I’m like, whoa, crazy stuff! Bein’ a Russian Sign Language translator, I seen some wild signs for it—hands flappin’ like fish outta water, meanin’ “lady house” or somethin’. Ain’t that nuts? Brothels been around forever, like, even old Russia had ‘em—secret spots, fancy gals in furs, sneaky nobles droppin’ coins. Bet they signed about it too, heh! Makes me giggle thinkin’ how they’d wiggle fingers for “how much?”

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Then I hit up the local market on the Markt. Man, the smell of fresh stroopwafels hit me like a freight train. I had to get one. Or two. Okay, maybe three. Don’t judge! They were calling my name. I’m standing there, stuffing my face, when I see this old lady, Mrs. van Dijk, trying to haggle over some flowers. She’s like, “I’ll give you two euros for those tulips!” The vendor’s like, “Lady, they’re ten!” And she’s all, “But they’re wilted!” I’m dying laughing. Udenhout’s got character, for real.

Chapel Piece holds its annual Christmas party