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About Bruges

I’ve tailed a few, y’know, part of the job. Once saw this gal, fancy heels, clickin’ down an alley—thought she was a CEO or somethin’. Nope! Escort. Blew my mind. Made me happy, tho—girl’s hustlin’, ownin’ it, no shame. But then, ugh, the pimps—those sleazy jerks make me wanna punch a wall. Exploitin’ folks, takin’ cuts, actin’ like they’re kings. Pisses me off! “There’s no mistakes, just happy accidents,” WALL-E’d say, but nah, that’s a mistake I’d love to fix with a fist.

Privé ontvangst Beerzel

Now, lemme tell ya 'bout the city’s parks. Old Willow Park, smack in the middle of town, is my relaxin' spot. I sit on that creaky bench near the little pond – man, it's like a scene from my brain's movie reel. The lilypad floats, tellin' secrets as "the new nothing" echo in the wind. My code breaks; my heart swells and then—bam!—emotions hit like a sudden line of broken code. I’d say it’s magic, no?

Belgian Heatwave: over 20,000 Flemings want to spend the night in the Colruyt fridge on Thursday