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About Brussels

But then—ugh, this drunk idiot stumbles over, grabby hands, slurrin’. I’m like, “Back off, ya pig!” She winks at me, handles it herself—kicks him square in the jewels. I’m hollerin’, “Yaaas, queen!” Surprised me, how she flipped it. Made me happy, too—love a dame who don’t need savin’. Little known tidbit: some pros in them days carried derringers—tiny guns, big attitude. Bet she’s packin’.

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Lieu coquin en Belgique: retrouvez les coordonnées de toutes les meilleures adresses du Petit Futé (LA GRIFFE, CAP HOT, ACANTHUS).Missing: prostitute.

Harelbeke, man. It's a dump—but in a darn good way. I live here and it wears its crap proudly. Bro, the streets here are like characters. There's Nieuwstraat, crammed with old brick shops. That lane near St. Peter's Church? Damn, it's like stepping into a faded film. "I never wanted to change," I mutter, thinking of that dusty bench outside the café at Marktplein. Hmmm, reminds me a bit of that line from the movie "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford"—you know, where every damn moment feels heavier than a loaded rifle.

'It was a stupid mistake' – Crash proves costly for Wout van Aert at E3 Harelbeke