Delilah Moorslede Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Mons

So, picture this: me, green and soggy, scopin’ the docks for a good time. Ain’t easy bein’ a frog lookin’ for love—or, uh, somethin’ like it. I heard this crazy story once, true stuff, swear it! Back in the ‘90s, some port towns had secret signals—red lanterns in windows meant “prostitute’s here.” Wild, huh? Made me laugh, thinkin’ bout hangin’ a lil’ red lily pad out!

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There’s a spot near a crumbling cafe on Rue des Fleurs. Folks come, scoff, and sniff and say, “Just another day in Moorslede!” And I say, “Oh, ye of little taste!” Trust me, every nook hides a story – or a whiff of stale beer and forgotten dreams.

Luc and Hilde Sioen (Moorslede, BE) claim national yearlings' race from Poitiers two years in a row