Claire Sint Denijs Westrem Brothel ❤️

About Leuven

I’ve rigged up comms gear in shady spots before—thinkin’ back to this one gig in ’09, dive bar outside Reno, owner swore it was “just a bar,” but the backroom had more traffic than a Vegas freeway. Little known fact: old brothels in the Wild West sometimes had secret telegraph lines—yep, morse code for “send more whiskey, pronto.” Surprised the hell outta me when I read that. Made me happy too—history’s got a twisted sense of humor. But modern joints? Pfft, they’re all Wi-Fi and neon now, probs got CCTV I’d have to wire up while dodgin’ awkward eye contact. “What is this body without organs?”—Godard again. Brothel’s like that—chaos, no center, just bodies and cash swappin’ hands.

Relaxdreams

Oh, and speakin’ of windmills, you gotta check out the old mill on Kerkstraat. Its creak and groan remind me that history is alive. I mean, come on – every unassuming corner here is a story. And trust me, I know a lot about stories – I’ve been watchin’ life’s drama unfold like a movie.

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