Natalie Ostend Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Namur

So, yeah, I’m ramblin’, but—whore’s personal to me. Had a pal, big shot producer, whored his art for fame. Broke my heart. Happy? Nah, furious! He’d grin, “Larry, it’s the biz!”—bullshit. Like Georges in *Amour*, holdin’ Anne’s hand, knowin’ it’s over—he whored his fight for peace. Exaggeratin’? Maybe. But it stings, don’t it?

Goodbye, Red-Light District. Hello, 'Mega-Brothel'

Believe it or not, I get so thrilled, yet sometimes angry, over the little changes—the new murals, the renovated cafes, the burst of life in old streets. Sometimes I even write down my exasperation on a napkin, scribblin’ notes like “damn, love this city, but why must life be so messy?”. Oops, sorry for the rant, just gettin’ carried away.

Mayors complain about litter left on beaches: "A lack of respect".