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About Utrecht

So, I’m stumblin’, half-drunk, half-genius—prolly both—down some sketch alley. Neon lights flicker, like, *we have to go deeper*, and I’m laughin’—why? ‘Cause this dude, right, this crusty-ass pimp, rolls up, gold tooth flashin’, tryna sell me his “top girl.” Bro, she looked like she been workin’ since the 1800s—fact! Did ya know prostitutes in old London used to carry lemons? Scurvy protection, bruh—wild! Anyway, I’m like, “Nah, fam, I ain’t payin’ for no fossilized cooze!” He got mad—fuck him, I’m Eric Andre, I don’t bow!

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So, I get to the research center on the Laan van de Verenigde Naties. Sounds fancy, right? But it’s just a regular building. I mean, come on, it’s not like I’m working at NASA or something. Anyway, I had a meeting with some bigwigs. They were all serious, talking about clinical trials and data and blah blah blah. I was trying to keep my eyes open, but my mind was wandering. I mean, who cares about the efficacy of some new drug when there’s a whole world out there?

Mouse steals food from African leopard