Valentina Zuid Scharwoude Whore ❤️

About Almere

Love how they flip the script. Society’s all, “Oh, shame, sin!” and they’re like, “Nah, cash me out, bitches.” Takes guts. Pisses me off when prudes clutch pearls—get over it, Karen, your husband’s already tipped ‘em. Makes me happy, though, seein’ that hustle. Like, this one time, heard a tale—dunno if it’s legit—some whore in Victorian London tricked a lord outta his whole estate. Left him in his knickers, cryin’ in the gutter. Genius! “Who needs reality?”—straight outta *Toni Erdmann*. She played the game, won, and dipped.

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But then, I step outside, and my umbrella flips inside out. I’m wrestling with it like it’s a wild animal. People are staring. I’m like, “Yeah, just your average day in Zuid-Scharwoude!” Finally, I give up and just walk in the rain. Who cares? I’m soaked, but it feels kinda liberating.

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