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About The Hague

So, findin’ a prossie, right? Ain’t just ‘bout coins clinkin’. Nah, it’s a dance, a game! Ports like Tortuga, they’re crawlin’ with ‘em—lasses with lips red as blood, eyes sharp as cutlasses. Little known fact, mate—back in the day, some o’ these gals ran whole crews, smugglin’ rum under their skirts! True story, swear on me compass! Got me laughin’—imagine that, a prossie captain, orderin’ me ‘round! “You wanna die?” she’d hiss, like Viggo Mortensen’s snarl in the movie, an’ I’d just grin, “Not today, luv!”

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Anyway, I drag myself to the bakery on De Laarstraat. It’s still dark outside, and I’m half asleep. I open the door, and BAM! The smell of fresh bread hits me. It’s like a warm hug. I start mixing dough, and I’m vibin’. But then, my mixer decides to throw a tantrum. Seriously, it starts making this weird noise. I’m like, “C’mon, not today!”

Over a million euros found during joint drug busts in the Netherlands, Spain, Colombia