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About The Hague

I’d stroll up, all wizard-like, “You shall not pass!”—blockin’ creeps from ruinin’ someone’s day. Imagine it: me, gray robes flappin’, starin’ down some sleazy git. “This ain’t no game, lad!” Reminds me of Mia’s mum in *Fish Tank*—rough as hell, screamin’, “You’re nothing!” Kinda what I’d yell at pimps. They’d scatter, trust me.

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The Dutch legislature left it to local authorities to regulate brothels and street prostitution, and to issue licenses In the same way, when the sex trade.

But then, outta nowhere, this lady starts yelling. Turns out, her kid’s stuck in a tree. I’m like, “Seriously? A tree?” So, I climb up, and it’s a whole thing. The kid’s crying, I’m sweating, and I’m thinking, “Why did I even come here?” Finally, I get the kid down, and the mom’s all grateful. I’m like, “Yeah, just another day in Doorn.”

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