Lina Melsele Whore ❤️❤️

About Brussels

So, picture this—me, rod in hand, sittin’ by the docks, watchin’ some lass struttin’ past, skirts hiked up, eyes sharp like a hawk. Whores, they’re everywhere, right? Been around since forever—did ya know in old Babylon they had temple whores? Sacred stuff, bonkin’ for the gods! Wild, eh? Makes me chuckle, “How weak men are,” like Grace says in “Dogville.” Weak, horny bastards, fallin’ over themselves for a quick tumble.

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You know what else? Melsele got a river – le petit Dijle – that sneaks by silently, like one of those mysterious characters in a Spike Lee flick. Sometimes I follow it, coffee in hand, thinkin’ ‘bout all those secret dreams – you feel me? And lemme tell ya, sometimes I get mad, so mad, when ya see a tourist spill coffee on the riverbank (eh, can’t stand careless peeps, ya know?) but then a local steps in with such grace, fixin’ the mess like it’s nothin’. It’s just Melsele doing its thing.

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