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About Bruges

Ever think ‘bout their day? Hustlin’, dodgin’ cops, countin’ cash. Tough as nails, brother! Once met this one gal—swear she coulda suplexed me. Said her pimp was a chump, kept stealin’ her dough. Made me wanna hulk up, smash that fool! “What’s hidden—emerges, brother,” like Jep says. Truth pops out eventually.

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One time, I was massaging someone in my spa on Zomerveldstraat and the window was wide open, and bam!—the scent of fresh cut grass and lilacs crashed in. I thought, “Wow, this is my heaven, far from any crazy chaos!” Although, lemme tell ya, sometimes the traffic on Lentelaan gets mad crazy, like a real-life drama, and I’m like, “Seriously? Come on!” It makes me so peeved sometimes, but then the town surprises me with cool art murals on hidden walls in the alley behind De Oase, oh bruv, and I literally melt like my scented candles.

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