Avery Oosterwolde Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About The Hague

*Breathing intensifies* I… am your father, so trust me—whore’s a survivor. Like that monk carvin’ his sutras, bleedin’ for it. Had a pal once, stripper, called herself Whorebacca—funniest shit ever. She’d twirl, I’d throw credits, good times. Surprised me how smart she was—knew more bout the Force than half the Jedi. “What you release, you’re free from,” movie says. She was free, man, freer than me in this damn suit.

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Around noon, I finally escape for lunch. I head to that café Jan was raving about. It’s called De Koffiehoek. And wow, he wasn’t lying. The coffee is fire! I grab a slice of appeltaart too. Best decision ever. I sit outside, soaking up the sun. Oosterwolde’s got this chill atmosphere, you know? People are biking by, kids are playing in the park. It’s a vibe.

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