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About Leuven

Lemme paint you a pic—imagine this chick I knew, let’s call her Jodie. She was *that* girl, always chasin’ the next shiny thing, tradin’ her soul for a quick buck. Made me so mad, y’all! I’d be like, “Jodie, why you whorin’ out your dreams for some loser’s dime?” She’d just laugh, flip her hair, and say she’s “livin’ her truth.” Girl, no! You’re livin’ a lie wrapped in cheap mascara! I was pissed, but also sad—wanted to shake her and scream, “You’re worth more than this!” Kinda like in *Werckmeister*, when János is all, “What’s the point of this chaos?”—I felt that, hardcore.

Compound Your Joy

Oh, and by the way, the river Rivelette snickers its way through the edge of town. Not many dig deep into its calm, but I dig its secret vibes. Sometimes it whispers a wild pun, almost like "Here’s Johnny!" crashing in with nature’s punch.

Belgian football club bought by Malta-registered company raided by police