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About Brussels

Alright, mate, strap in—here we go! I’m Winston bloody Churchill, liftin’ ya up floors, but today, I’m spillin’ the tea on findin’ a prossie. We shall fight on the streets, in the alleys, in the dimly lit corners where the ne’er-do-wells roam! Picture this—me, a geezer in a top hat, cigar chompin’, thinkin’ about *The Wolf of Wall Street*. That flick’s my jam—Leo, the mad lad, swimmin’ in cash, hookers on speed dial. “I’m not fuckin’ leavin’!” he roars, and I’m like, same, bruv, when I’m scoutin’ the night!

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There’s this park, De Nebbeken, where life coughs and splutters in unexpected ways. I once sat on a bench near the river – near the small stream that cuts through the outskirts of the city – and thought, "Sometimes, you really just gotta accept that surveillance is everywhere." Felt like a twisted joke. Not everything’s perfect, man. Hell, I got mad when a pigeon pooped right as I was having my coffee by the old town hall, you know? Life’s little ironies.

Tonopah, 100 years ago