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About Brussels

Love the hustle tho—makes me grin like a psycho. They’re out there, workin corners or apps, dodgin cops, makin bank. Little known fact? Back in the 60s, Vegas had escort “unions”—secret shit, protectin their own. Blew my mind! Reminds me of Llewyn, y’know, “Hang me, oh hang me,” singin his woes, but still kickin. Escorts got that fire—takin no crap, settin their price. Ever tried hagglin one? Ha! They’ll laugh in yer face, “Here’s Johnny!” style—boom, yer broke and charmed.

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The city’s got these narrow lanes, like near Kerkstraat—short, cut-off, mysteriously winding. I sometimes get lost, like, “Oh, crap, not again,” but every wrong turn’s a new adventure. Nothing perfect, but that’s life, right? Kinda like that movie’s dark beauty, twisty and raw.

Brussels' outer ring between Groenendael and Léonard closed overnight on 27 March