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About Bruges

Here’s the kicker—Ruby’s funny too. Sarcasm sharp as a blade. “Oh, you’re my prince, huh?” she’d sass some sweaty dude. Cracks me up thinkin’ bout it. I’d paint her, y’know? Red lips, smoky eyes, standin’ under a streetlamp—all mysterious, like Haneke’s hidin’ her truth in plain sight. “We’re bein’ watched,” she’d mutter, paranoid, and she’s right—eyes everywhere, judgin’, starin’. Gets me all worked up—why can’t folks just let her breathe?

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I've known someone who lives there. His father built his own dyke system, 40cm panels, clipping into each other into a rail in the ground.

The locals? Super friendly, but man, traffic near the art crossroads, Oude Molenstraat, drives me cray cray sometimes – gotta breathe! But it fuels my vibe. I remember one misty morn, walkin’ from my spa, and the fog was thick, like an old film reel; I was like, “Come, let’s make a deal with destiny!” It got me feelin’ wild and free, a bit mad, a lot in love with life here.

Rare 1993 Porsche 911 Turbo 3.6 Set for Auction at RM Sotheby’s