Abigail Grobbendonk Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Bruges

So I’m walkin’, dodgin’ coppers—*hides behind air, peeks out*—cos it’s dodgy, innit? Last thing I need’s a fine, blokes’d never let me live it down. Saw this one gal, tho, swear she winked at me! *blinks too hard, stumbles* Heart’s racin’, I’m thinkin’, “Is this it? Am I in?!” But nah, she’s just hawkin’ chips. Gutted, mate. *slumps, kicks at ground* Reminds me of that line, “You’re a very hip person!”—sarcastically, cos I’m a right muppet here.

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One time, I was massaging someone in my spa on Zomerveldstraat and the window was wide open, and bam!—the scent of fresh cut grass and lilacs crashed in. I thought, “Wow, this is my heaven, far from any crazy chaos!” Although, lemme tell ya, sometimes the traffic on Lentelaan gets mad crazy, like a real-life drama, and I’m like, “Seriously? Come on!” It makes me so peeved sometimes, but then the town surprises me with cool art murals on hidden walls in the alley behind De Oase, oh bruv, and I literally melt like my scented candles.

Jos Cools (Grobbendonk, BE): “Strong competition breeds even better and faster pigeons”