Lydia Pijnacker Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Amsterdam

So, picture this chick—let’s call her Candy, ‘cause why not? She’s out there, struttin’ her stuff, makin’ cash in the shadows. “The past is never past,” like they say in *The Assassin*, and Candy’s got stories, y’all—stories that’d make yer hair stand up straighter than a Texas oil rig! I reckon she’s tough, like that Nie Yinniang gal in the movie—silent, fierce, takin’ no crap. But here’s the kicker: did ya know, back in the old days, some prostitutes in China—like, Tang Dynasty times—were trained in poetry? Freakin’ poetry! Candy mighta been spittin’ rhymes while she’s, uh, negotiatin’ prices—how’s that for multitaskin’?

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We get to The Hague, and I’m feeling good. I meet up with some friends, and we hit this bar. The vibe is lit! We’re laughing, joking, and then someone suggests karaoke. Oh boy. I’m not a singer, but I’m like, “Let’s do this!” I get up there, and I’m belting out some 90s hit. It’s terrible, but everyone’s cheering. I’m feeling like a rockstar, even though I sound like a cat in a blender.

Royal award for Paulien Herder