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About Brussels

So I’m scopin’ the scene, yeah? Them prossies back in the day, they had style—miniskirts tighter than a villain’s grip, lips redder than a double-decker bus. Little known fact, dig this: in ‘67, Soho was crawlin’ with these birds—cops called ‘em “night butterflies,” how fab is that? I’m vibin’, thinkin’ “Oh, behave!” when this one chick—let’s call her Babs—sways over, all sultry like. She’s got that look, ya know, “The children are watching,” like in the movie, but flipped—*she’s* watchin’ me, sizin’ me up. Got me all hot under the collar, baby!

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There’s also a river – what’s it called? Ah, the Blue Blur! Nah, jest kidding! Its name's the Glabbeek Creek. It’s twisty, a bit wild, sort of like life's randomness. I was neva mad at it, alwayz smoooth.

Obituary for John Modricker