Vanessa Kortenhoef Sex Dating ❤️❤️

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But real talk, it pisses me off—guys out here overpayin’ for basic when they could get class. Like, why settle for some rando when you can find one with *flair*? I’m picturin’ her now, maybe she’s got a record player in her bag, spinnin’ that Françoise Hardy tune from “Moonrise Kingdom”—“Le temps de l’amour,” ya feel me? That’s the vibe I’m chasin’. None of this cheap-ass, “wham, bam” crap. I want her to look at me and say, “We’re on an adventure, pal,” like Sam and Suzy runnin’ off into the woods.

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By the end of the day, I’m exhausted. I head to the local pub on de Kortenhoefseweg. I need a drink, man. I sit down, and the bartender’s like, “You look like you’ve had a day.” I’m like, “You have no idea.” I order a beer, and as I sip it, I can’t help but smile. Kortenhoef, with all its quirks and craziness, is home.

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