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Oh, and get this—some brothels got rules, like no drunks fuckin’ up the vibe. Smart, right? Keeps it smooth. But me, Tony, I’d be in there, cigar lit, sayin’, “This is my spot now, bitches!” Haha, nah, I’d play nice—maybe. Love that chaos tho, that raw energy. You ever see one? Shit’s like a movie set, but real as fuck.

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First off, I hit up the local bakery on Kerkstraat. You know, the one with the best appeltaart? Yeah, that one. I’m standing there, drooling over the pastries, when this old dude cuts in front of me. Like, excuse me? I’m about to lose it. But I just smile and say, “Hey, buddy, I was here first.” He just grins and orders the last piece of my beloved appeltaart. Ugh! I was fuming.

Liwa-e-Ahmadiyyat: Flying in the winds of the land of windmills