Lydia Adegem Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Antwerp

Lemme spill somethin’—little factoid for ya. Back in old Rome, whores wore yellow. Yup, yellow! Stood out like a neon sign. “Come get it,” it screamed. Wild, right? Imagine that today—yellow dresses everywhere, struttin’. Cracks me up, thinkin’ of the chaos. But—hold on—it’s sad too. She’s marked, branded, no escape. Like Dae-su’s tattoo, that five-day tally—permanent, stuck. Gets me wonderin’, slow and deep—what’s her five days? Her prison sentence in stares?

In Flanders Fields

So, gotta say, as a family psychologist wise in my years, the town’s tiny flaws, its hidden corners, made me mad sometimes—grr—like when noise disrupts our session, ugh, you feel me? But who cares, happy moments burst through plenty, like laughter under strange neon skies in that flick I love so.

After Seven Decades, This Canadian Soldier Was Finally Laid to Rest