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About Nijmegen

So, picture this—some chick, let’s call her Candy, ‘cause why not? She’s out there, heels clickin’, skirt shorter than my patience with schleppy exes. I’m like, “Oh honey, you’re workin’ harder than that horse pullin’ the cart!”—y’know, from the movie? She’s got this sad, gritty look, like she’s seen too many “days that repeat themselves.” That line kills me! Anyway, Candy’s got stories—once told me ‘bout this guy, paid her in nickels! NICKELS! I was screamin’, “What is this, 1890?!” Made me so mad, I coulda spit! But also—kinda funny, right? *NAAAHAHAHA*

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After that, I hit up the local bullfighting arena. It’s a small place, but the energy is electric. I’m pumped! The crowd’s hyped, and I’m ready to do my thing. But then, the matador trips. Like, full-on faceplant. I’m dying laughing, but also worried. Is he okay? Turns out, he’s fine, just a bit embarrassed. But man, the crowd went wild!

PAL-V flying car hits the road