Sienna Hoofddorp Whore ❤️❤️

About Amsterdam

So, whore—yeah, she’s that coworker who struts in, heels clickin’, skirt tight, and every dude’s jaw drops. Me? I see past it. Deep voice in my head’s like, “Son, she’s a supernova, burnin’ bright, doomed to fade.” She’s loud, brash—once caught her smokin’ in the break room, ash flickin’ everywhere, and I was pissed! Yelled, “Girl, this ain’t no damn bar!” She just smirked, blew smoke in my face—sassy as hell. Made me mad, but damn, I laughed later. Ballsy move.

“HONK IS WONEN MET DE WERELD AAN JE VOETEN”

But then, my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy asking if I wanna hit up a bar later. I’m like, “Heck yeah!” So I head over to the bar on the Hoofdweg. It’s packed, and the energy is wild. I grab a drink, and we start chatting about our day. I tell him about the coffee spill, the fancy dude, and the skateboard fail. We’re cracking up, and I’m just so happy to be here.

Creating a new city. Octavia Hill by Studioninedots