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About Groningen

So, I’m thinkin—where do ya even start? Back alleys? Shady websites? Total sketchville. I’d probs be all nervous, like Monsieur Gustave tryna keep shit classy while dodgin cops. “The plot thickens, as they say!” Maybe I’d hit up some dive bar—neon lights flickerin, stinkin of cheap booze. Saw this chick once, fishnets ripped, smokin a cig like she owned the joint. Total vibe. Made me happy, dunno why—grit’s hot, I guess.

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Sex workers are now renting airbnb spaces to work instead of hotels. I had my guests removed for violating my House Rules smoking, using drugs in my house.

When I get there, it’s a freakin’ circus! Kids running everywhere, dogs barking, and Jan’s in the middle of it all, trying to juggle. I’m like, “What are you doing, man?” He drops a ball, and it rolls right into a fountain. Classic Jan. We both crack up, and I’m just happy to be there, you know?

James L. Doorn | Obituaries