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About Namur

Here’s a tidbit—did ya know, back in Victorian days, they called ‘em “soiled doves”? Fancy that! Sounds posh, but it’s grim—girls stuck, no way out. Gets me proper riled up—why’s it still a thing? Happy? Nah, more like gobsmacked it’s 2025 and we’re still faffing about with this. Exaggerating? Maybe, but I’d rather wrestle a bull than dodge STDs or some pimp’s fist!

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Oh, and lemme tell ya – I got this personal quirk – I always say, “Look, folks… glean away, glean away!” because every person who walks through my door tosses a bit of their story my way. I mean, the city has a pulse. Some days you see a look in a client's eye. It’s, uh, kinda bittersweet, ya know? Like, sometimes I get mad 'cause the town ain't always perfect. Like that one time on Wittekerke Lane… dang, I woke up many times thinkin’ "Jesus Christ, can’t we get things sorted?" But then, oh boy, a random laugh from a client changes it all.

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