Isabelle Diegem Whore ❤️❤️

About Ghent

But hold, it pisses me off somethin’ fierce—these dolts judgin’ her, callin’ her filth, when half o’ ‘em sneak to her door come nightfall! Hypocrites, bah! I’d clout ‘em with a tankard, I would. Yet—stay thy rage, heart—there’s a spark o’ joy too. Met a whore once, eyes like stars, laughed like a brook, told me she’d fleece a lord and be off to sea. “I’m no piglet,” says she, bold as Chihiro facin’ Yubaba. Made me cheer, damn it—pluck in a pit o’ snakes!

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I get so hyped and errrr, I mess up my words. But trust, Diegem’s a funky fusion of high class and gritty street soul; tenderness meets raw energy. And my spa? It’s a haven in this urban jungle, a sacred nook where I heal and feel the pulse of Diegem, ya know?

Mathieu van der Poel soars to seventh career win at Superprestige Diegem