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About Aalst

So we’re chattin, and I’m feelin it—connection, ya know? Not just a quick bang. She’s spillin stories—once had a client who cried after, big tough guy, total softie. I’m crackin up, like, “What a pussy!” But it’s cool, humanizes the gig. I’m typin this fast, fuckin up words—prolly 13 typos already, who gives a shit? Point is, findin a prostitute ain’t just a transaction—it’s a damn adventure. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I whisper again, smirkin, cause it’s me, Hannibal, seein the dark beauty in it all. You try it sometime, pal—beats watchin reruns!

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Also, gotta drop a little secret: the quiet cul-de-sac near Molenweg is where I sometimes just sit and ponder life, get lost in thoughts about what makes us tick. It’s totally underrated, like, you wouldn’t believe how chill it is at dusk when the city lights up in a mismatched, beat-up glory. Ain’t that somethin’?

Body in medieval coffin found in Bruges identified as wealthy knight