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About Tilburg

What gets me happy? Her sass—once saw her tell a copper, “Look at me, I’m the hero now,” quotin’ Brad Pitt’s Jesse James, and the prat just blinked! Pure gold. But it’s sad, too—she’s got no one, just like me after a mission goes tits-up. “Ain’t no peace in this life,” she’d sigh, and I’d nod, thinkin’ of my own ghosts. Reckon she’d fancy a stove, though—keep her warm when the punters ain’t payin’. Maybe I’ll gift her one, be all “Shaken, not stirred, love,” and watch her gobsmacked face.

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The Whore, the Bawd, and the Artist: The Reality and Imagery of Seventeenth-Century Dutch Prostitution. June ; Journal of Historians of.

But then, I see this guy trying to juggle. He’s dropping balls left and right. I’m cracking up, and he catches me laughing. He gives me this look like, “You think you can do better?” So, I’m like, “Challenge accepted!” I grab a couple of apples from a nearby stand and start juggling. Spoiler: I’m terrible. One apple goes flying, and it lands right in a canal. Oops!

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