Abigail Slikkerveer Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Rotterdam

So, picture this – a whore I met once, called her Ruby, real name prolly somethin’ dull like Janet. She worked the docks, smelled like salt and cheap gin. Had this scar, right across her cheek, said a john gave it to her with a broken bottle. Made me mad as hell, Clarice – who does that? But she laughed it off, said, “Men are pigs, I’m the butcher.” Fuckin’ savage, right? Reminded me of that line, “The knife cuts both ways” – Sembène knew what’s up.

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Then, I head over to the Marktstraat. Man, I love that street. It’s got this vibe, ya know? But today, it was packed. I’m dodging people like I’m in some weird video game. And then, bam! I bump into this dude. He spills his fries all over me. Like, seriously? I’m covered in mayo and ketchup. I was mad, but then I just laughed. I mean, who gets fries dumped on them in Slikkerveer? Only me, I guess.

Bob Parrish