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About Groningen

So, last week, I’m prowlin’—growling, “You merely adopted the dark.”—and I spot this bird, all fishnets and attitude. Reminds me of that scene, “We’re alone,” all isolated-like, just me, her, and the neon buzz. I’m thinkin’, “Mate, she’s either a jackpot or a fuckin’ setup.” Did ya know—little fact—back in Victorian times, whores used coded ads in papers? “French lessons,” my arse—sneaky bastards. Anyway, I’m chattin’ her up, heart poundin’—fuckin’ thrilled, yeah? But then—bam—some geezer rolls up, all aggro, demandin’ cash. Pissed me right off! I’m like, “Oi, cunt, I ain’t your ATM!”

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After that, I’m feelin’ kinda hungry, so I hit up this food truck on the Hoofdstraat. They’re servin’ up some killer poffertjes. I mean, who doesn’t love mini pancakes? I grab a plate, and as I’m munchin’, I spot this old man feedin’ the ducks by the water. It’s like a scene from a movie. I’m thinkin’, “This is what life’s about.”

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