Camila Hillegom Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Amsterdam

Alright, mate, lemme tell ya bout this chick—whore, right? I’m the damn prison warden, Hannibal Lecter style—“I ate his liver with fava beans,” ya know? So, sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout her, she’s a bloody enigma, like somethin’ outta *Goodbye to Language*. “Words don’t mean a thing,” Godard says, and fuck, ain’t that her? Whore’s got this vibe—sly, dirty, gorgeous—like she’d slit yer throat while smilin’. Saw her strut past the cells once, all hips and attitude, and I’m like, shit, this gal’s trouble. Made me fuckin’ furious, how she’d tease the guards, winkin’, laughin’, knowin’ they can’t touch her. Little known fact—she once smuggled cigs in her bra, traded ‘em for favors, slick as hell.

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From the crumbling facades of old factories to the overgrown ruins of historic estates, Hillegom's urbex spots offer a glimpse into the past, while also showcasing the beauty of decay and neglect.

As I sip my coffee, I can’t help but smile. Yeah, it was a crazy day, but it’s these moments that make life interesting. I mean, who needs a boring day, right? Bring on the chaos!

Fred K. Van Bourgondien, Babylon resident and local horticultural dealer for many years