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About Tilburg

But it ain’t all roses. Some dude’s out there, sendin’ dick pics like it’s a job—gross! Reminds me of that *Leviathan* line: “You’re all pigs!”—‘cept it’s dicks, not pigs, floodin’ my inbox if I’m a chick, y’know? Makes me wanna holler, “Strategery, people—use some class!” Then there’s the ghostin’—you’re chattin’, vibin’, then poof, gone! Happened to me once, left me sadder’n a hound dog on a porch. Sex-dating’s a jungle, I tell ya—fun, but you gotta dodge the vines.

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So, I grab my drink and head to the market on the Markt. It’s buzzing, people everywhere. I’m dodging strollers and old folks like I’m in some kind of obstacle course. I spot this vendor selling fresh stroopwafels. I can’t resist. I buy one, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. But then, outta nowhere, this kid runs into me, and my stroopwafel goes flying! I’m standing there, mouth agape, watching it land on the ground like it’s in slow-mo. I’m like, “Nooooo!”

Windplan Blauw Tower Base rings in place