Stella Berkel En Rodenrijs Prostitute ❤️

About Utrecht

I reckon their life’s like a Tesla on autopilot—high tech, high stakes, but damn, one glitch and BOOM, crash. Saw this doc once—blew my mind—some gal in Amsterdam’s Red Light, been at it since 17. Seventeen! Lil known fact: she rigged her room with LEDs, mood vibes, like a SpaceX cockpit. Made me chuckle—pimp’s like, “WTF, you unionizing with lights?” Gotta respect the hustle, tho—girl’s a freakin engineer of flesh.

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So, I’m chugging my coffee, and I head to my first meeting on de Bovenweg. I’m pumped, ready to help this couple plan their future. But guess what? They’re late. Like, really late. I’m sitting there, tapping my foot, thinking about how I could’ve been at home watching Netflix instead. Finally, they stroll in, all casual, like they didn’t just make me wait half an hour. I’m trying to keep my cool, but inside, I’m like, “Seriously?!”

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