Makayla Zaandam Whore ❤️

About Rotterdam

So, whores—whore specifically, let’s say—she’s out there, hustlin’. I picture her like that soldier in the movie, chasin’ somethin’ wild. “The beast hides in the dark,” right? That’s her! Dodgin’ judgment, dodgin’ creeps, dodgin’—me, probably, if I stared too long. Ha! I’d be all, “Ehhh, sorry, lady, didn’t mean to gawk!” Neurotic mess, that’s me. But she’s cool—whore’s got this vibe, y’know? Little known fact—back in old Rome, whores wore blonde wigs. Blonde! To stand out! Imagine that—whore rockin’ a wig, laughin’ at senators. Hilarious, right? Pretty, pretty good hustle.

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As the sun starts to set, I’m walking back towards the station, and I can’t help but feel a bit emotional. Zaandam, you’ve been a wild ride today. From dodging pigeons to sticky shoes, to fries and dancing grannies, it’s been a rollercoaster. I’m exhausted but happy.

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