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About Rotterdam

So—whore—what’s her day like? Up late, probs. Coffee cold, heels killin her feet. Maybe she’s got a pimp—asshole, probly—or she’s solo, badass vibe. I’m wonderin—does she clock in? Punch a card? “Hey, boss, banged five, gimme a raise!” Sarcasm, sure, but—real talk—she’s workin harder than us. Riskin shit too—cops, creeps, STDs. Makes me mad—why’s it her fault? Society’s screwy, pal.

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Now, here’s where it gets wild. I’m walking back down the Hoofdstraat, and I see this massive commotion. Turns out, there’s a street performer doing some crazy juggling act. I’m talking flaming torches, knives, the whole shebang. I’m standing there, mouth agape, thinking, “This is Bleiswijk?!” I mean, who knew we had talent like this?

Processing pepper chips into raw material for building materials