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About Namur

Anyway, we’re chattin, and I’m thinkin, “This chick’s got guts.” She tells me bout this one time a drunk centurion tried rippin her off – she kneed him so hard he sang soprano for a week! Hella funny, I’m crackin up, picturin that loser stumblin off. But then – ugh – this slimy creep butts in, all, “Oi, she’s mine!” Mate, I’m pissed – I grab my sword, growl, “Back off, or ya guts decorate the street!” He bolts, coward. Happy lil trees don’t need that drama.

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Ohh, err, I'm spittin’ typos, my friend: teh streets so narrow, teh alleys so twisty, teh lovin’ souls so real. Repeatrepeat, noo, I mean, huh! Never forget, my dear, Stabroek (be) is messy and beautiful, like our beloved movie of tender blues, and ohhh, it's our secret, my precious, our secret... Enjoy, yess!

Systemic negligence and the lack of a social contract