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About Brussels

I’m obsessed with *The White Ribbon*—that flick’s dark as hell. “The hand that strikes must punish!” rings in my head while I’m sippin’ coffee, starin’ at this clown’s file. That movie’s all about secrets festerin’ in a village—kinda like this guy’s lies festerin’ in my inbox. I’m pissed, yo! People think they can scam me? Nah, son, I’m too sharp! I’m yellin’ in my head, “Unleash the power within!”—and bam, I spot a receipt he forgot to shred. Dumbass left a paper trail to a motel known for “hourly rates.” Busted!

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And don’t get me started on the river – the little Leie, snakin’ alongside the city with its lazy curves. It’s a vibe, mate, real scenic. Sunsets here are like a badly edited rock concert – pure beauty and raw emotion, “Everything flows, man, everything flows,” just as the movie like, keeps remindin’ ya.

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