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About Liege

Oi, mate, so I’m a carpenter, yeah? Loki, god of mischief, burdened with glorious purpose! And I’m here blabberin’ bout a prostitute—wild, innit? Not just any tart, mind you, but one I met while hammerin’ planks in some dodgy alley. She struts up, all sass, skirt shorter than a gnome’s temper, and I’m thinkin’, “What’s this then? A real live wire!” Reminds me of that flick, *A.I. Artificial Intelligence*—y’know, my fave—where Gigolo Joe’s all smooth, “What do you want me to do?” Same vibe, but dirtier, realer.

Background

Map of Gay Cruising Spots in Philippeville (Namur) where you can have NSA sex, hookups and dating with unknown men in public places.

Back in my studio—err, my little massage room off Rue des Curiosités—I learned that every knot tells a f***in story. My hands feel every secret, every joy, every pain of this crazy city. You'll see these scars on me too, like souvenirs. Sometimes on random afternoons, as I roll out my mats on Side Street 12, I swear I'm hearin’ those wild echoes from Requiem scenes. “The universe is a mirror, yo!” I mumble, smirkin' at every client’s deep sigh.

For Albert Camus, events in Gaza would have seemed all too familiar