Julia Frameries Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Brussels

Whores, right? Oldest gig goin’. Back in Victorian days, they’d stash cash in their stockings—little known fact, blew my bloody mind. Imagine that, eh? Stockings stuffed with quid while I’m sippin’ martinis. Makes me happy thinkin’ how clever they were, outsmartin’ the suits. But—pisses me off too—some blokes still spit on ‘em, like they’re dirt. Mate, she’s got more balls than half the tossers in MI6.

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Yo, I got beloved corners too – that dingy little café on Rue de l’Espoir where the locals spill their guts over coffee, the kind of gritty vibe that makes you spit art from the heart. Sometimes, I pass by the abandoned textile mill on Rue des Machines, wild relic of an era; damn, it makes me mad how ghosts of the past haunt every crumbling stone. But it’s beauty, y’know? Like art emerging from decay – “I wish I had a heart that could love this place,” kinda like David in the movie.

Table Football, Major of Frameries: Charlie Aquilina wins Veteran Category