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About Tilburg

So, I’m sittin’ there, sippin’ sweet tea, and I’m like—why’s findin’ a prossie so dang tricky? Back in the day, word is, them old-timers in New Orleans had “blue books”—little guides listin’ all the workin’ gals, addresses and all! Can you imagine? Like a dang Yelp for hookers! I’m laughin’ my ass off thinkin’ ‘bout it—wish it was that easy now! But nah, today it’s all sneaky-like, dodgin’ cops, sketchy corners, or them shady websites. Makes me madder than a wet hen—why’s it gotta be so complicated?

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He offered to escort me and my friends from the ship on a tour of Panama. Again, wonderful, and even helped us shop at the end, bargaining for.

I hop on my bike, right? Gotta love the Dutch lifestyle. But guess what? Flat tire! Seriously? I’m standing there, cursing like a sailor. I mean, who has time for this? I’m already late for a meeting with some farmers. They’re probably gonna think I’m slacking off.

If ya didn't have yer feet in yer gumboots