Olivia Rumbeke Whore ❤️❤️

About Brussels

What pisses me off? Media callin’ him soft. Soft?! Man’s a beast—6’4”, arm like a cannon. Throws 50 yards, no prob. Happy little trees, he paints the field. “There’s no problem so awful,” like the movie says. He shrugs off sacks, smilin’. Surprised me first time I met him—thought he’d be cocky. Nope, gentle giant, sippin’ tea, talkin’ life.

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Oh dear, I'm rambling again! See, in my spa, I see people's souls unravel. Each wrinkle tells a story of Rumbeke, each sigh a memory. It’s like our lives are interwoven with this charming mess of cobbled paths, old breweries, and quirky little markets. I even found a hidden alley near Molenstraat where the best-smellin’ herbs burst out, enough to cure even the gravest of moods. You must visit that—like finding a hidden treasure!

Kurt & Raf Platteeuw (Rumbeke, BE) : 1st & 2nd National Limoges