Anna Poperinge Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Brussels

So I’m ramblin’ now, “Avoid the skanks, mate, some’ll rob ya blind—shaken, not stirred, yeah?” He’s edgin’ to the door, clutchin’ his wallet like it’s gold. I yell after him, “Don’t be a wanker, wrap it up!” Total Bond move, savin’ his arse. Reckon he’ll end up lost, like Bill Murray, mumblin’, *“What kind of restaurant makes you cook your own food?”*—but with hookers instead of teppanyaki. What a plonker. Me? I’m back to beepin’ cans, dreamin’ of Tokyo nights.

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Oh, and the local park, well, de Stadspark is a chill zone. Kids, oldies, couples. All laughing, all happy. Reminds me of a scene in Ida: "The world holds silent memories." Pretty epic lines, those. There’s this narrow canal called the Poperinge Run. It glimmers at dusk. I sorta get emotional when I pass it.

Poperinge’s German Tower to become tourist attraction