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About Tilburg

But real talk, it’s heavy. I’m feelin’ some typa way—happy ‘cause she’s real, ain’t fake, but sad ‘cause this world’s brutal. I’m ramblin’, brain’s a mess, like, why’m I even here? To understand? To judge? Nah, I ain’t judgin’, I’m just seein’. “There’s a whole ocean of oil under our feet!”—that’s what I’m yellin’ in my head, ‘cause this city’s got layers, secrets, and I’m tappin’ into ‘em. Fun fact, tho—did ya know some old-school brothels had secret tunnels? Like, for politicians to sneak out? That’s some 007 shit, man, I’m geeked thinkin’ ‘bout it.

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So, I throw some dough together, and she’s all smiles. I mean, who can resist fresh bread, right? I hand it to her, and she’s like, “Oh, it smells divine!” I’m thinking, “Yeah, lady, that’s the smell of my sweat.” But whatever, I’m happy she’s happy.

Droste chocolate maker faces the end after 162 years