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About Tilburg

But the sass—gods, the sass! Cherry once told a punter, “Mate, you last shorter than my ciggie break!” Had me in stitches, that did. Love their grit, their gob. They’re like me—mischief in their veins, dodgin’ rules, livin’ loud. “I glean where I can,” Agnès’d say, and these lot glean life itself, don’t they? Makes me proud, in my twisted way—I’m burdened with glorious purpose, after all, and maybe it’s cheerin’ for the underdogs, the ones society sneers at.