Emma Harelbeke Whore ❤️

About Brussels

Oh, I’d sass ‘em too—“Honey, you’re cheaper than a two-bit fiddle!” Gotta chuckle, else you’ll sob. Once met a gal, swear she bedded half of Tennessee—proud as punch! Said she’d “found her shore,” like in the movie. I was tickled pink—good for her, y’know? Live your truth, sugar! Me, I’d prob’ly trip over my own sequins tryin’ that life—Lord, I’m a mess!

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Swingersclub Pourquoi Pas; Harlemboislaan 1; Harelbeke +32 ; [email protected]; www.facebook.com

Harelbeke, man. It's a dump—but in a darn good way. I live here and it wears its crap proudly. Bro, the streets here are like characters. There's Nieuwstraat, crammed with old brick shops. That lane near St. Peter's Church? Damn, it's like stepping into a faded film. "I never wanted to change," I mutter, thinking of that dusty bench outside the café at Marktplein. Hmmm, reminds me a bit of that line from the movie "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford"—you know, where every damn moment feels heavier than a loaded rifle.

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