Ivy Geertruidenberg Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Groningen

Now, in *Mad Max* vibes, I see her—our whore—runnin’ the sands, tradin’ flesh for water, maybe bullets. “Witness me!” she’d yell, bold as brass, dodgin’ war boys and their grubby mitts. Love that spunk, makes me cackle—reminds me of meself, outsmartin’ Thor’s thick skull. Little-known bit? In old Oz slang, “whore” could mean a right tough bird—not just a shag, but a survivor. Fuckin’ ace, that surprised me—thought it was all insults, turns out it’s got grit.

Table of Contents

Collected here in English for the first time, W the Whore, W the Whore Makes Her Tracks, and W the Whore Throws the Glove present the shared vision of de Vries and Feuchtenberger at its .

I’m walkin’ down the Korte Kerkstraat, and I’m thinkin’, “What’s the plan here?” I’m hungry, so I hit up this little café called De Koffiepot. Sounds cute, right? I order a coffee and a broodje. But the lady behind the counter? She’s got the personality of a wet sock. I mean, c’mon! A smile wouldn’t kill ya!

High-voltage towers between Krimpen aan den IJssel and Geertruidenberg (The Netherlands) ready for another fifty years