Mia Ruddervoorde Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Namur

So, whore—ain’t just some chick on the corner, nah. It’s deeper, like a crocodile tearin through nostalgia in *Tabu*. Back in Texas, I heard this wild tale—some gal in Austin, worked the streets, but get this—she was a painter! Sold her stuff to rich dudes who didn’t even know! Blows my mind, man—whore with a brush, who’d thunk it? Made me happy as a pig in mud, seein’ that hustle.

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Walking around, you hit the quaint street of Vredestraat. Seriously, it's magic—like, one moment you're wonderin' about old stories, then BAM, next there's a hip café askin' you "What's up?" A local park, De Zwerf, wow, pure calm. It's like a secret haven, kinda like that scene in Mulholland Drive where mystery flows in every corner. Like, "cherry blossoms, whispering secrets"—yeah, weird but cool.

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