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About Bruges

Yo, what’s good, fam? Prostitute talk, huh? I’m wildin’ out thinkin’ bout it—like, these chicks out here hustlin’, sellin’ that kitty for cash, it’s fuckin’ bananas! Makes me think of *The Headless Woman*, y’know? That flick’s my jam—Lucrecia Martel droppin’ vibes in 2008. Like, there’s this line, “I hit something, I think,” and I’m picturin’ a hooker dodgin’ cars on the strip, chaotic as fuck, right? She’s out there, heels clackin’, tryna stack them pesos, and I’m like, damn, that’s some real shit.

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I’m a bit of a mama bear. I feel all these energies, ya know? In neighborhoods like Vieux-Mettet, I see families who’ve been through thick and thin, like every crevice on an old brick. I can sense the bonds and the scars, the celebrations, the tears. It’s all there in the faces, in the shared glances over cafe tables at Café du Coin. That place has the best lousy coffee ever! So good, I say, "Pinky-to-mouth, one million dollars!" like Dr. Evil in his best moments.

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