Lydia Doornsteeg Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Amsterdam

So, “whore”—it’s like that lipstick stain on a crisp white collar, ain’t it? Makes ya mad, makes ya laugh, depends on the day. Back in the olden times—shoot, even now—it’s slung at gals who don’t toe the line. Kinda like Cathy in the movie, bless her heart. She’s all proper, all prim, but folks whisper anyway. “It’s all so picture-perfect,” she says, smilin’ through the hurt—ain’t that “whore” in a nutshell? People judgin’ what they don’t even get? Gets my goat somethin’ fierce, I tell ya! I wanna holler, “Y’all hush up and let folks live!”

Over Doornsteeg fase 3

explore #doornsteeg at Facebook.

I hit up the main drag, and there’s this café called De Doornsteegse Droom. Sounds fancy, right? I’m thinking, “I’ll grab a coffee, chill for a sec.” But nah, the line is like a mile long. I’m standing there, tapping my foot, getting angrier by the second. I mean, c’mon, it’s just coffee!