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About Antwerp

But don’t be a dumbass – use cash, no cards, no trace. I’m yellin’ at my boy Manny once, “You wanna get caught?!” He’s all sloppy, flashin’ plastic. Pisses me off. Exaggeratin’ for effect – I’d rather fuck a cactus than trust a pimp with my digits. Say hello to my little friend! – he don’t snitch. Oh, and watch for the fake ones – they’ll rob ya blind, laughin’ all the way. Happened to my pal Chico, poor bastard.

Inside the world of Dhaka sex workers

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I’m always reminded of Amélie’s little magical moments: “Les instants de bonheur, mon coeur...” even if I'm sometimes frustrated with the cold winter winds that rattle the ancient windows of my own home here! Smeagol, it makes me huffy, and I blur out, “We swears, we hate cold, precious…” but then my heart softens seeing the gentle smiles of local kids playing by the fountain at Place de l’Europe.

'Hidden homelessness' in the Brussels Region exposed in new report