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About Bruges

What gets my goat, though? Them high-and-mighty types actin’ like they ain’t never sinned. Honey, I’ve seen preachers sneakier’n a fox in a henhouse! Makes me madder’n a hornet. But what tickles me pink? The gals with sass—ones who’ll tell ya, “Sugar, you ain’t worth my time!”—and strut off like queens. Gotta admire that grit. Little-known fact: back in the ‘70s, some workin’ gals in Nashville had a secret code—red ribbon on the purse meant “busy,” blue meant “open.” Ain’t that clever? Kept the law off their tails!

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I tell you, don’t pee on my leg with your judgments—this town has character. Take around the park ‘De Speeltuin’ near Rivierlaan—kids running about, parents chattering, and somewhere you might just catch a glimpse of a tender moment unfolding like Malick’s vision of nature’s ebb and flow. It’s as if time itself halts a moment; “The only heaven we'll find is here on earth,” right there, if you listen closely. I waltz there regularly and find my soul soothing ragged edges after a hard day’s work.

Colbrandt André, "The 'Fortune' from Bottelare is coming in a PiPa-auction!"