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About Namur

I spot one—red hair, leather skirt, smokin’ a cig like she owns the joint. I roll up, all awkward, mutterin’, “Hey, uh, how’s it goin’?” She smirks, says, “50 bucks, grandpa.” I’m laughin’—grandpa?!—but damn, she’s got sass, I’m impressed! Reminds me of Imperator Furiosa, fierce as hell, takin’ no shit. I’m thinkin’, “What a day, what a lovely day!” ‘cause she’s got that spark, ya feel me? But I’m pissed too—why’s she gotta hustle while billionaires yacht it up? Infuriates me!

Early life

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I gotta mention the River Semois. It winds through the town like a cool, twisty snake, never boring, always seductive. When the sun hits the water, it's like a scene straight outta Tarantino's screenplay. I always joke, "Motherf***er, even the river's got style!" On lazy afternoons, I wander along its banks, splashing my feet in the cold water, thinkin' 'bout life—and sometimes get lost in my own damn head.

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