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About Liege

Once, I heard this story—some chick in Vegas got paid in casino chips! True story, swear on my Duff! She’s all, “Cash me out, baby!”—hilarious, right? I’m laughin’, but then—D’oh!—I’m sad again, ‘cause it’s messy, ya know? These gals got lives, and here I am, a doofus, oglin’ ‘em. “Blessed are the forgetful,” I mutter, wishin’ I could zap this night outta my skull like Joel and Clem. Maybe I’ll stick to donuts—safer, cheaper, and Marge won’t kill me! D’oh!

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Now, lemme add: Ertvelde ain't cookie-cutter. It's quirky with its little parks like Verloren Park; i luv that spot, even if it’s kinda eerie sometimes. Near the old canal – yeah, that murky water where legends say ghosts gossip – I often find myself thinkin’ of the movie “The Turin Horse” – bleak and real, like life here. “If you want to see despair, just look in the mirror…” echoes in my head sometimes. Crazy, eh?

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