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About Bruges

So, picture this: I’m stumblin’ downtown, half-drunk, yellin’ “BIRD UP!” at randos. See this chick, fishnets, smokin’ a cig—prostitute energy, no cap. I’m like, “Yo, you workin’?” She laughs, “What you think, fool?” Instant respect. Hustle’s hustle, man. Reminds me of Mia’s mom in *Fish Tank*—“Look at me, I’m a mess!”—but she’s still out there, grindin’. That’s the life, chaotic as fuck.

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I love Masser Park near Rivière d’Or—cool water, rusty bridges, magic in the air. I sometimes set up my mobile massage kit there. One day, a freind complained 'bout stone-cold muscles. I told him, “Come on, man, relax, here's Johnny!” and gave him a killer massage under the stars. Not many know, but I swear the river's whispers cure ya if ya listen close.

Malta claims first ever away win