Anastasia Bemmel Find A Prostitute ❤️

About The Hague

So, last week—d’oh!—I’m cruisin’ downtown, belly fulla donuts, lookin’ for some action. Streets are buzzin’, lights flashin’, and I’m like, “Marge’d kill me, but whatever!” You gotta dodge the cops, tho—sneaky bastards. Fun fact: back in old Rome, prostitutes wore blonde wigs to stand out. Crazy, right? Imagine that—blonde wig, high heels, waitin’ under a lamp post like some ninja from “The Assassin.” “She moves in silence,” like the movie says, and bam, there she is!

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Then, I hit up the local pub, De Zwarte Ruiter. Needed a cold one after that embarrassment. I sit down, and the bartender, a cool dude named Jan, pours me a beer. We start chattin’, and he tells me about this legend of a hidden treasure somewhere in Bemmel. I’m like, “Treasure? Where?!” He just laughs and says it’s probably just a myth. But now I’m curious.

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