Ava Franeker Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Breda

So, this bloke—let’s call him Nader, like in the film—files a claim, says his car got smashed outside some dodgy joint. I’m like, “You shall not pass!” till I get the full story. Turns out, he’s tryna "find a prostitute"—not just any, mind ya, but one he swears stole his wallet *and* keyed his ride. Mate, I’m laughin’—this fool’s out here chasin’ tail and thinks I’ll just sign off on his bullshit? Nah, fam!

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

Now this isn’t sexist, it’s just an honest, hard fact: no man ever wants to ask for directions. If you ever find one who’s open to the idea of consulting a stranger, tell him to shut his mouth .

So, I’m fuming a bit, right? I decide to hit up the local bakery on de Witte Poort. Best stroopwafels in town, no cap. I grab one, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. Sweet, gooey goodness. I’m feeling better, but then I see this kid drop his ice cream. I’m like, “Oh no, not the ice cream!” The poor kid’s face was priceless. I almost laughed, but then I felt bad.

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