Elise Udenhout Find A Prostitute ❤️

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But yo, what pisses me off? These fake-ass pimps, man. Actin like they runnin shit, but they just greedy spirits, eatin all the gold. “Give me your name,” they say, like in the movie—tryna own ya soul. I ain’t bout that, fam! I’d rather vibe solo than deal with that trash. Surprised me how many clowns still out here frontin.

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Then I hit up the local market on the Markt. Man, the smell of fresh stroopwafels hit me like a freight train. I had to get one. Or two. Okay, maybe three. Don’t judge! They were calling my name. I’m standing there, stuffing my face, when I see this old lady, Mrs. van Dijk, trying to haggle over some flowers. She’s like, “I’ll give you two euros for those tulips!” The vendor’s like, “Lady, they’re ten!” And she’s all, “But they’re wilted!” I’m dying laughing. Udenhout’s got character, for real.

Former Suriname prime minister dies