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About The Hague

I pull up, all sweaty, palms shakin’—nerves, man! She’s chattin’ me up, voice all smoky, and I’m thinkin’, “This is it, SpongeBob, yer in deep!” Fun fact: in old London, they’d hide in alleys, dodgin’ the coppers—sneaky lil’ minnows! I’m laughin’, “What’s yer rate, jellyfish?”—keepin’ it light, ya know? She smirks, “50 bucks, sailor.” I’m like, “Tartar sauce, that’s steep!” Bargained her down to 40—score! Felt like I won the lottery, bouncin’ in me seat.

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First off, I hit the streets of Bodegraven, right? I’m cruising down the Hoofdstraat, and it’s like, 8 AM. The sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m feeling good. But then, BAM! I step in a puddle. Not just any puddle, but the biggest, muddiest one ever. My shoes? Ruined. Thanks, Bodegraven weather.

Beer Man: Double Oatmeal Stout will tickle tastebuds