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About The Hague

Me? I’d saunter in, all swagger, “Do I make you horny, baby?” Test the waters, vibe it out. Probs get distracted—ooh, shiny lights! Brothels got that pull, like Brandon’s “I’m numb” bit. Sex everywhere, yet empty. Deep, man. Freaky deep. You ever think—why’s it still a thing? Cash, desperation, horniness—mix it, boom, brothel stew!

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Then I hit up the market on the Markt. Man, the smell of fresh stroopwafels hit me like a freight train. I had to get one. I mean, who can resist that? I’m munching away, and this lady next to me is haggling over some cheese. Like, lady, it’s cheese, not gold! But she’s all serious, and I’m just there, stuffing my face.

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