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About Brussels

Now, tie this to “Moolaadé”—them women stood up, said, “We seek refuge!” Kinda like a prossie might, runnin’ from a bad pimp or some creep john. I’m gettin’ all fired up thinkin’ ‘bout it! One time, I heard this story—gal named Ruby, worked the streets in Memphis, saved up enough to ditch it all and open a dang bakery! Ain’t that a hoot? From turnin’ tricks to turnin’ dough—talk about a glow-up! Surprised me so much I near spit out my coffee!

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I gotta mention my favorite spot: a tiny, hole-in-the-wall bar on Sasstraat. The locals gather, they rant, they laugh – raw, unfiltered. People here don’t pretend. They say brutal stuff, just like my coding errors in production. I've spilled more beer and secrets there than in any fancy meeting. It makes you appreciate the mundane brilliance.

I loved Sinéad for her wild courage and rage