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About Breda

So, here’s the deal, bud. You’re cruisin’ downtown, lights flashin’, neons buzzin’ like flies on a hog. Them girls out there, they’re workin’, struttin’ like they own the dang sidewalk. Git-R-Done! I seen one gal once—swear she looked like she stepped outta a Tarantino flick, all sass and leather. Made me laugh, thinkin’, “Man, she’d tell the mayor, ‘You’re no good!’” just like in *Leviathan*. Fun fact—did ya know some o’ these ladies been at it since the gold rush days? Hist’ry says San Fran had ‘em lined up like cattle in 1850! Wild, huh?

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I hit the streets, and man, Roermond was buzzing. People everywhere, bikes zooming past. I swear, if I had a euro for every bike I dodged, I’d be rich! I took a shortcut through Havenstraat, and that’s when I saw it. A street performer, right? He was juggling flaming torches. I was like, “What the heck? Is this a circus or what?” I stopped to watch, and honestly, it was dope. But then, he dropped one! Fire everywhere! I jumped back, heart racing.

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