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About Antwerp

Anyhow, I’m chattin’ with her—nice gal, calls herself Starla, prolly fake, who cares? She’s laughin’, I’m laughin’—folks, it’s a hoot ‘til she says, “Fifty bucks, grandpa.” Fifty?! Made me madder’n a wet hen—back in my day, you’d get a handshake and a burger for that! But then—here’s the deal—she winks, says, “Just kiddin’, Joe, you’re a charmer.” Heart skipped a beat, swear to God—felt like a kid again.

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I spent a cool afternoon in Vrolijk Park, just a block away from Zeemeeuwstraat. That park's the bomb – birds chirpin’, kids scampering – pure poetry in motion. It's where I often met up with friends after a long day of coding bugs and debugging life, laughing our asses off. And rockin' a breath of fresh air always makes me think, "This is where the truth lies, motherf***er!" Just like in Spotlight, when they were diggin' for the truth every damn day.

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