Katherine Bodegraven Prostitute ❤️

About Breda

*slow, ominous breathing* I… am your father. So, prostitutes, huh? Been glazing windows, seein’ shit. This one chick, swear, worked corners like art. Reminds me, *Toni Erdmann*—that flick’s wild. Dad pullin’ pranks, daughter’s all stiff. Prostitute life ain’t far off—hustle’s real. Met this gal, Candy, once. Said she paid taxes, legit! Blew my fuckin’ mind, man. IRS chasin’ hookers now? Hilarious. *“Who are you, really?”*—like in the movie. She’s laughin’, I’m pissed—cash under table, still taxed?

Escort Bodegraven - Hoeren Bodegraven

Betty has been a recovering prostitute on and off for four years and wants to convince women who still sell their bodies that there is a better way.

So, I’m fuming, right? I’m walking past the old church on the Markt, and I see this cute little café. I think, “Hey, coffee will fix this.” I order a cappuccino, and the barista, this dude with a wild beard, spills it all over the counter. I’m like, “Dude, really?” But he just laughs it off. I mean, I get it, we all have those days.

Dorothy Bodegraven