Freya Berlare Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Antwerp

Favorite bit? The hagglin’. “Ten bucks,” she says. “Ten? For a god?” I scoff, all dramatic. We settle, and I’m thinkin’, “I coulda conjured gold, but where’s the fun?” Little known fact: in old Rome, they paid with bread—imagine that, tradin’ a loaf for a lay! Cracked me up, picturin’ some toga’d git barterin’. Anyway, it’s messy, it’s raw, and I’m here for it—glorious purpose, right? To stir the pot, see what bubbles up. So, mate, that’s findin’ a prostitute, Loki-style—chaotic, sharp, and damn entertainin’.

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I got mad at the river near De Werve for a minute – yeah, the little stream that cuts through town. It sometimes gurgles too loud, disrupting quiet vibes. But then it’s cool again // it’s all part of Berlare’s beat. Spilled milk moment? Nah, just nature being its noisy self, I guess.

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