Anna Oosterwolde Whore ❤️

About Amsterdam

Oi, mate, lemme tell ya bout this “whore” business—hah, what a mess! I’m Loki, y’know, smug mischief, “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” and all that jazz. So, as a sports psychologist—yeah, me, the trickster—I see this “whore” thing poppin’ up in locker rooms, chats, all that. Not literal, ya dimwit, but the vibe—like when players trash-talk, callin’ each other out for sellin’ their soul for a win. “You’re a whore for that trophy!” they’d yell, and I’d smirk, thinkin’, *Oh, mortals, so predictable.*

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Around noon, I finally escape for lunch. I head to that café Jan was raving about. It’s called De Koffiehoek. And wow, he wasn’t lying. The coffee is fire! I grab a slice of appeltaart too. Best decision ever. I sit outside, soaking up the sun. Oosterwolde’s got this chill atmosphere, you know? People are biking by, kids are playing in the park. It’s a vibe.

Hydrogen production at Dutch solar park