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About Brussels

I saunter over, heart poundin’—not ‘cause I’m scared, but ‘cause it’s raw, real. “How much?” I grunt. She smirks, “Depends, big guy.” Cheeky as hell—love it. Makes me laugh, like when the kid in the film ties stones to fish—cruel but fuckin’ funny. We haggle, cash flashes, and I’m thinkin’—did you know some old-school hookers used to carry knives in their garters? Fact. 1800s shit. Kept ‘em safe from jackasses. Wonder if she’s packin’.

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The neighbourhoods are lit. Check out De Polder—it’s gritty, artsy, and vibrant. I once met a rad artist doodling on walls there... I mean, dude was sketchin' abstract zodiac signs, talk about fate! Then there’s Industrieel, kinda raw, where the nightlife pulses. I bumped into a date there, and man, sparks flew crazily.

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