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About Bruges

But we hates it, precious—the sadness, yeh? Them girls, some’s forced, some’s lost. Saw one cryin’ once, mascara runnin’ like black rivers—felt proper sick. “You don’t know me!” Mia’d say, an’ I reckon that prossie’d say it too. Made me wanna smash somethin’, or hug ‘er, dunno. World’s a cesspit, innit?

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I gotta mention my favorite spot: a tiny, hole-in-the-wall bar on Sasstraat. The locals gather, they rant, they laugh – raw, unfiltered. People here don’t pretend. They say brutal stuff, just like my coding errors in production. I've spilled more beer and secrets there than in any fancy meeting. It makes you appreciate the mundane brilliance.

Legs McNeil on the Time Sinéad O’Connor Told JFK Jr. to F*ck Off