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About Bruges

Then—bam! Cops roll by. Nearly shat myself—thought I was busted. False alarm, phew! “We’re all alone,” like in the flick—nobody cares. Still, shady vibes linger. Prostitues got stories—some sad, some badass. One told me she paid off med school hustlin’. Respect, yo—grit like a black hole!

Sex Buyers: Why Cops Across the U.S. Target Men Who Buy Prostitutes

The river, the Riviere Bleue, cuts through the town like a ribbon. I like to stroll along its banks, thinkin' bout life's quirks. The bridges, like Pont des Rêves, make my feet tingle, remind me of a call to relax from my aches.

“It’s scary”- Scientists finding mounting evidence of plastic pollution in human organs