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About Brussels

So—where ya start? Back in my day—hell, even now—ya hit the shady corners, right? Neon lights buzzin’, girls leanin’ on poles, smokin’ cheap cigs. Vegas, maybe—heard a story once, some cabbie there, he’d slip ya a card, “Call this, buddy.” Boom—girl at your door, 20 minutes. Little known fact—cabbies were the hookup kings, rakin’ in tips. Made me laugh—capitalism, baby! But it pissed me off too—everybody’s got a hustle, even the damn taxi guy.

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Although sex workers with degrees are less likely to work than others in any given week suggesting that online are more likely to regard prostitution as a.

Then there's the old waterwheel on River Jeer – sorta hidden behind a maze of alleys. That place gives me goosebumps! And oh, the rickety bridges at Port B, where I once met some quirky souls who made me mad at first, but then happy as all get out when I shared some deep, soul-level talk. So many truths there!

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