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About Antwerp

So, I’m prowlin’ the streets, right? Lookin’ for a gal who don’t play games. Not like those dolled-up dames in Haynes’ flick. “I’m so terribly alone,” Cathy’d whimper. Boo-hoo, lady, try payin’ for company—cuts the crap. Found this spot, seedy joint, neon buzzin’ like a pissed-off hornet. Guy outside says, “Fifteen bucks, she’s yours.” Fifteen! I’d spend that on bacon! Made me mad—cheap price, cheap world. Hate inflation, hate hagglin’ more.

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Man, the park, Parc des Rêves, is my personal favo’ spot. I go there to vent after long sessions. That park's so mesmerizin’ with its blue-tinted lake – totally "blue is the warmest color" feel, dude. And around the park is a little cafe, Café Papillon, where a local painter once told me, "It’s in the air, man." Even the trees seem to listen to your problems. I’m telling ya, this is where therapeutic magic happens.

Saving Van Gogh’s home from dereliction