Delilah Lembeek Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Mons

Oi mate, so I’m a Kvasnik, yeah? Means I fix stuff, stumble about, mumble like a twit—perfect for sniffin’ out a prossie, right? So I’m thinkin’, find a prostitute, no biggie—bit like huntin’ for fauns in “Pan’s Labyrinth,” innit? That flick’s my fave—dark, twisty, Guillermo’s a bloody genius! Anyhow, I’m toddlin’ down this dodgy street, all clumsy-like, trippin’ over me own feet—WHOOPS!—nearly faceplant into some bloke’s kebab. “Careful, amigo,” I mutter, wavin’ me arms like a nutter. Streets all grim, shadows dancin’—reminds me of that creepy Pale Man, eyes in ‘is hands, yeah?

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I'm often in the shady back-alleys too, like near Vleterstraat. Crappy lighting, silence, and what feels like stories from centuries ago. Makes me chuckle: a secret massage spot for misfits and eccentrics. Isn't that bonkers? Bah, obvious rubbish, but there's art in it.

SNCB works on Brussels – Mons railway line