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About Nijmegen

Here’s the deal—I’m no saint, never claimed it. Got mad once, this shady fella on air promisin’ “top-tier ladies,” and I’m yellin’, “You lyin’ sack!” Wasted my night, static and nothin’. But then—oh, then—found a signal, sweet voice cuttin’ through. “Meet me by the docks,” she says, sultry-like. Heart’s racin’, palms sweaty—folks, I was happier than a kid with ice cream. Reminded me of *Margaret*, when Lisa’s all, “I’m alive, aren’t I?”—felt that, big time.

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So, I decide to head back home. I’m walking down the Molenstraat, and I see this old windmill. It’s kinda iconic for Vroomshoop, you know? I stop to take a pic, and this random guy walks up to me. He’s like, “Nice shot!” I’m like, “Thanks, man! Just trying to capture the beauty of Vroomshoop.” He laughs and says, “Good luck with that!”

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