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About Tilburg

I’d stroll up, all wizard-like, “You shall not pass!”—blockin’ creeps from ruinin’ someone’s day. Imagine it: me, gray robes flappin’, starin’ down some sleazy git. “This ain’t no game, lad!” Reminds me of Mia’s mum in *Fish Tank*—rough as hell, screamin’, “You’re nothing!” Kinda what I’d yell at pimps. They’d scatter, trust me.

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So, I’m fuming a bit, but whatever. I keep walking. I hit up the Pijnacker-Nootdorp train station. I’m waiting for my train to The Hague. I’m scrolling through my phone, and then I hear this loud commotion. Turns out, some dude is arguing with the ticket machine. Like, bro, it’s just a machine! Chill out! But he’s going off, yelling at it like it’s a person. I can’t help but laugh. I mean, who argues with a ticket machine?

Zuid-Holland warns 8 municipalities: Arrange asylum shelter, or we'll do it for you