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About Leuven

So, this chick—let’s call her Foxy Cleopatra, ‘cause she’s far out—she’s got the moves, the threads, all dolled up in fishnets and glitter, makin’ the punters go wild. I’m like, “Groovy, baby!” ‘cause she’s got that *Inception* vibe—ya never know what’s real, right? Is she lovin’ it, or just playin’ the game? “The dream is collapsing,” mate, and I’m hooked, watchin’ her spin her web. Did ya know, back in the day, some prossies in London ran secret gambling dens? Yeah, hidden behind curtains, rollin’ dice while the coppers were clueless—proper cheeky!

Spring til...

There’s a street called Slaapstraat. I stroll there on lazy afternoons. Ain’t no rush, y’know? I pass by a faded mural. Man, it sparks memories. “Well, it might as well be a copy,” I say laughin’.

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