Ivy Gemert Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Tilburg

Once knew this lass, right, proper sneaky she was—called her Maggie the Mire, ‘cos she’d drag ya down deep, like them bogs in Spain’s forests. She’d grin, all sweet-like, “Come, my love,” but next thing? Yer pockets empty, yer heart bleedin’—we hates it! Swear she had eyes like Ofelia’s, big an’ shiny, but hidin’ somethin’ rotten. Little fact fer ya—back in ol’ London, they’d mark whores with brands, yeh? Burnt ‘em right on the cheek—savage, innit? Made me mad as hell, thinkin’ how they’d strut after, proud-like, scars an’ all.

Population centres

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But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring! I mean, like, monsoon level. We dash for cover, laughing like idiots. “Only in Gemert!” I yell. We’re soaked, but it’s hilarious.

World's first 3D-printed bridge opens to cyclists in Netherlands