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About Namur

Sometimes I wonder - what’s the draw? The danger? The thrill? “A bottomless chasm of pussy and despair” – that’s my fave line from the movie, fits perfect here. Makes me sad tho, seein folks lost in it. But then I’m like, fuck it, live how you wanna, just don’t piss me off with fake-ass moralizin after. Surprised me how many cops turn tricks into busts - entrapment’s a bitch, man.

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www.facebook.com will allow you to view the massage parlors in your area. Most actual websites for ordering one up have been taken down lately. That’s your best bet. Willing to bet if you fire up .

Ah, my dear, listen up. Moorslede is a curious damn place. I’ve been here for years, shtum in my little massage joint off Molenstraat. It’s a town that grinds you down, yet you learn its secrets. Naughty, full of quirks, kinda like me. I stroll down Kasteelstraat, where old stones murmur like ghosts. Yeah, ghosts of massages past… you never know what you’ll find behind every locked door.

Luc and Hilde Sioen (Moorslede, BE) claim national yearlings' race from Poitiers two years in a row