Hazel Weesp Whore ❤️❤️

About The Hague

So, in my head, this whore’s a badass. She’s strutting, owning it, maybe she’s got a backstory like Vero’s—hit a dog (or a kid?) and just keeps walking. “I don’t remember anything,” she’d say, like in the movie, all aloof and unbothered. I love that—she’s messy, human, not some saint. Makes me happy thinking she’s out there, flipping off the haters. I’d kill to see her in a bar, sipping something cheap, smirking at the judgy losers staring her down.

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So, I roll into Weesp, right? First thing I notice is the canals. They’re everywhere! I’m talking about the kind of picturesque that makes you wanna slap a postcard on the fridge. I’m strolling down the Nieuwstraat, and I’m like, “Dude, this place is cute AF.” But then, bam! I trip over a cobblestone. Classic me.

The Southern River Band release ‘Cigarettes (Ain’t Helping Me None), touring in March