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About Leuven

So, mate, lemme tell ya, it’s a grubby game, findin’ a tart. Back in old London, they’d call ‘em “ladies of the night”—fancy, huh? But nah, it’s all muck and desperation, makes me wanna claw me eyes out. Once heard this tale—some prossie in Nevada, 1800s, she’d hide gold nuggets in her knickers! True story, mate—miners paid her double just to dig ‘em out. Greedy gits, “I see through you!”—like Plainview screamin’ at the preacher.

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I love wanderin’ down Kasteeldreef. I was chillin’ at that quaint café—uh, Café Bieb—staring out onto the river Zeveke. Yep, little river, big soul. I always mumble to meself, "Ooh, the land is brave, and the River whispers secrets of love…", just like in the movie, ya know? Ah, I almost forgot—my faverite spot is an old hidden alley near De Molenstraat. It’s quirky, with graffiti that almost tells its own family saga, ha!

Polish trucker drowns in the River Leie