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About Charleroi

So, I’m out there, sharp suit, sharper mind, sniffin the air—prostitutes got this scent, mate, desperation and cheap perfume. Reminds me of dissectin folks—figuratively, ‘course. Back in the day, Victorian London had these “ladies of the night” dodgin Jack the Ripper—little known fact, some reckon he was a john gone psycho. Makes ya wonder who’s huntin who, eh? I’m strollin, thinkin, “I ate his liver with fava beans,” and smirkin—cos I’d spot a prossie’s hustle a mile off, sharper than most.

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I swear, man, the juxtaposition of medieval mystery with that glitchy modern tech scene is freakin’ hilarious. One minute you're sorting profiles for love, and the next, you're admiring the way the sunset kisses the roofs of the old belfry, casting long shadows that seem to say "Beware!" Emotions run wild here—happy, mad, surprised, and all sorts of nutty feels, yo!

In idyllic Ardennes towns, eight in ten property buyers are Flemish