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About Rotterdam

Alright, so sex-dating, huh? I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’—what’s the deal with this? It’s like, you swipe, you chat, you bang—bam! Done! Pretty, pretty good, right? But then, oh no, it’s not! It’s a mess! A total mess! I mean, I’m no Casanova, but this sex-dating thing—it’s nuts! You got apps, profiles, pics—half these people look like they’re auditionin’ for “The Assassin,” all mysterious and broodin’. Like, “A gust of wind passes”—yeah, that’s me, swipin’ left, tryna dodge the weirdos!

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Anyway, I kept walking, trying to shake off the weirdness. I hit the market at the Groenmarkt. It’s always buzzing with life. Fresh veggies, flowers, and all that jazz. I spotted this amazing cheese stall. You know me, I can’t resist cheese. I bought some aged Gouda, and let me tell you, it was heavenly. But then, I dropped it. Yup, right on the cobblestones. I was like, “Nooooo!” The cheese gods were not on my side today.

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