Mari Merchtem Whore ❤️

About Brussels

Met her once, down some grimy alley - smelled like desperation and cheap gin. Her eyes, Clarice, cold as a shark’s, but damn if they didn’t hook me. “Fish are friends, not food” - bullshit! She’d eat ya alive, laughin’ all the way. Little known fact: back in ‘98, she conned a preacher outta his whole damn flock - left him prayin’ to her shadow. Wild, right? Made me chuckle, thinkin’ bout that slimy hustle.

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Stroll down Lierstraat, the heart of our town, where cafes spill out onto the pavement and the locals swap snarky remarks. Oi, you can feel the pulse of the city as soon as you step off the bus near Schopstraat. That’s where I first found solace— and, frankly, overindulged a bit, haha, reminiscent of “DREAM WHAT YOU WANT!” from Spring Breakers.

Recaps: Namur Angels with Sweep over Merchtem Cats