Rose Mariakerke Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Bruges

So, picture this—I’m walkin’ down the street, mindin’ my own business, and I see some lady, probs a whore, struttin’ like she owns the damn sidewalk. And I’m like, “Good for you, sister!” But also, “Get outta my way!”—I got places to be! It’s this mix of respect and annoyance, y’see? Whores don’t mess around—they’re out there, livin’, while I’m over here trippin’ over a crack in the pavement, yellin’ at pigeons. Pisses me off how they got that confidence, that *swagger*. Where do I sign up for that? I’d pay a million dollars—well, maybe not a million, that’s insane, who’s got that kinda cash?—but you get me.

Mariakerke

Let’s not forget the hidden gems – my fave? The tiny café on Averestraat, oh man, they brew a killer cuppa joe. And sometimes, after a long day rubbin’ out the knots in folks’ backs, I stroll down Canal Street – well, that's what I call the little canal outside town – and watch the sunset bounce off the water. Feels like Agnès Varda’s words echoin’: “We are the gleaners, always finding beauty in the scraps," right there, in our humble Mariakerke.

Two teenagers rescued at sea in Ostend