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About Brussels

Where d’ya look? Alleys, mate, always alleys. Or them shady pubs – stinks o’ ale and desperation. “Sadness says it’s hopeless,” I mutters, but then – there she is! Glitterin’ like me precious coal. I likes the ones with sass, y’know? One told me, “Five quid, love, or sod off.” Laughed me head off – cheeky! Reminds me o’ Disgust in the movie, all “Eww, no way, buster.”

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Harelbeke, man. It's a dump—but in a darn good way. I live here and it wears its crap proudly. Bro, the streets here are like characters. There's Nieuwstraat, crammed with old brick shops. That lane near St. Peter's Church? Damn, it's like stepping into a faded film. "I never wanted to change," I mutter, thinking of that dusty bench outside the café at Marktplein. Hmmm, reminds me a bit of that line from the movie "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford"—you know, where every damn moment feels heavier than a loaded rifle.

'Sexist' cycling poster withdrawn