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About Brussels

So, one night, I’m done haulin’ hay—friggin’ exhaustin’, man! Hands all gritty, back achin’ like I wrestled a pig. I think, “Marge’d kill me, but I’m curious!” D’oh! Ain’t lookin’ for love, just a yarn to spin. I roll by this dive bar—neon sign flickerin’ like it’s drunk too. See this gal, all fishnets and attitude, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Every family’s got its mysteries,” I mutter, quotin’ Sarah Polley—ha! She’s smokin’ a cig, givin’ me the eye. I’m like, “Homer, don’t be a dope!”

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Ever wandered around around the University areas? Trust me, those winding paths near the library are a legit treasure trove. I used to get lost (literally, haha) near the Sci-Tech park – it’s like every turn shows a new art installation or quirky café. One time, I hopped into a tiny, dim-lit bar on Boulevard de l’Avenir – yes, that's a real street name – and man, his passion for life was like “Remember: every second's a fresh start!” I ended up having a deep convo with the bartender about how memories and experiences shape your senses... just like Memento’s layers of time.

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