Lina Dongen Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Tilburg

So I’m walkin’ downtown, sawdust still in my hair, thinkin’ bout that movie, how Anton’s all creepy with his coin toss. And bam! This chick’s standin’ there, fishnets, red lips, lookin’ like trouble. I’m like, “Hiiiiii! You sell… hugs?” She laughs, says, “Nah, sugar, more than that.” I’m clueless, right? “More than hugs? Like… sandwiches?” She rolls her eyes—rude!—and I’m all, “Ohhh, you’re a PROSTITUTE!” Took me a sec, I ain’t bright.

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So, I finally get to the research center on De Kuilen. I’m all outta breath, and my hair’s a mess. I walk in, and boom! My boss, Mr. Van der Meer, is there, looking all serious. He’s like, “You’re late!” I’m like, “Dude, I just ran a marathon!” He didn’t laugh. Ugh.

Remembering the life of Quirinus van DONGEN