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About Brussels

Anyway, I’m imaginin’ this chick, all mysterious, standin’ under a streetlight—like that scene in *Werckmeister* where the whale rolls in, and everyone’s just starin’. “What is this creature?” I’m mutterin’ to myself, half-excited, half-freaked. Do I wave? Say hi? Toss cash like a gangster? I’m overthinkin’ it, obvi—my brain’s a mess, like, “Tina, chill, it’s not a date!” But I’m hyped too—somethin’ about the grit, the realness, gets me goin’. Prostitution’s old as dirt—did ya know ancient Rome had “lupanars”? Brothels with freaky murals—talk about decor goals!

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So, friend, if you ever come visit, wander around, chat with the craziest locals, and remember: life’s full of little moments of wonder. As they say in that movie, "Le cœur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît point." Well, ain’t that a dandy bit of truth for ya? Enjoy Tongerlo—it's a wild, heartfelt ride. How’s that workin’ for ya?

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