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About Namur

Oi mate, lemme tell ya bout findin a prossie! Picture this—me, a machine milkin operator, stuck in muck, udders all day, then bam—I’m dreamin of somethin spicier. We shall fight on the streets, we shall fight in the brothels, we shall never surrender to a dull night! So, “4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days”—that flick, yeah? Grim as hell, Romanian birds sortin an abortion, dodgy deals in backrooms. Made me think—findin a prossie ain’t far off that vibe, all sneaky an desperate like.

From La Rochelle to San Sebastian in Search of Beer

find out about their data double using subject access or FOI Brunehaut / Rumes / Tournai (1); Mouscron (2); Comines-Warneton (3);.

Damn, parks—uk, so green. Parc de Rêve, my fav spot. I chill on a bench, think life. Its benches, man, they whisper secrets. Caffè de Nuit, a quaint cafe on L'Allée des Miracles, is lit. I sat there, drank crazy espresso. Felt like the world, like in that movie—Brooklyn, you know? "I am your father," the café sign booms.