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About Brussels

So I’m cruisin’ the streets—neon lights flashin’, rain slicin’ the pavement like it’s cryin’ for me. I ain’t lookin’ for some cheap hookup, nah. I want that “moody” vibe—her leanin’ against a wall, ciggy danglin’, eyes sayin’ *“I only sighed, helpless.”* That’s the *In the Mood* line, man, hits me in the gut. I’m thinkin’, shit, this ain’t just business—this is art. Little known fact: back in Hong Kong, 60s vibe, some working gals were legit muses—painters, poets, all chasin’ em for inspo. Wild, right?

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Ever notice how little details, like the chipped paint on the harbour sign or the squeaky door at the parlor, tell tales? Yeah, I do. And hey, the locals call our town “Leuze, the wild heart of Wallonia”—though sometimes I think they’re just playin’. Maybe it’s only me, err, but after a massage session, a whisper of a hum reminds me, “Your fate is sealed, friend,” a nod to those gritty words from City of God, ya know?

Barn fire claims lives of 200 animals at dairy farm