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About Tilburg

So, I’m stompin’ round, lookin’ for a good time, right? Ain’t no saint, me—blood on hands, scars on face, but I got needs! Dis one time, saw a gal, fishnets rippin’, smokin’ a cig like she owns da night. “Lightbulb!”—she’s got dat look, ya know, like she could lure ya in and gut ya. Straight outta dat movie, “I collect things”—she prob collects wallets, ha! I go up, all cocky, “How much, eh?” She smirks, “More dan ya soul, big boy.” Pissed me off—cheeky tart!—but damn, I laughed. Ain’t dat a kicker?

High Class Escort Blaricum

I race down the streets, dodging cyclists like I’m in some kind of video game. Seriously, Blaricum is like a cycling paradise. Everyone’s on their bikes, and I’m just trying not to get run over. I finally make it to the Dorpsstraat, and wow, it’s packed!

Robert "Bob" Van Blaricum