Sophie Pijnacker Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Tilburg

Zen pause… I’m sittin here, imaginin it. Smoky room, velvet curtains, some guy nervous as hell. “You’re not in Ireland anymore,”—that’s from *Brooklyn*. Fits here too—steppin into a brothel, whole new world. Used to sneak peeks at old pics—Victorian era brothels, insane. Girls in corsets, secret trapdoors. One joint in London—had a tunnel to a pub! Authenticity, man, that’s the juice.

Dutch Painting

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So, I’m fuming a bit, but whatever. I keep walking. I hit up the Pijnacker-Nootdorp train station. I’m waiting for my train to The Hague. I’m scrolling through my phone, and then I hear this loud commotion. Turns out, some dude is arguing with the ticket machine. Like, bro, it’s just a machine! Chill out! But he’s going off, yelling at it like it’s a person. I can’t help but laugh. I mean, who argues with a ticket machine?

Zuid-Holland warns 8 municipalities: Arrange asylum shelter, or we'll do it for you