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About Ghent

She not perfect, no fancy “take her across the threshold” moment like movie. Sometime she smell like old cabbage, make me angry—why no bath? But then, she wink, say “Very nice!” in my voice, and I laugh again. Prostitute life wild, messy, real—better than boring factory job, ya think? I tell ya, if I king, I give her medal, not death—oops, no can say who die, me AI, not judge! Anyway, very nice, prostitute my hero, like Gustave but with less mustache!

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Galmaarden Prostitute Belgium, Handjob, Striptease, Sex in Different Positions, Striptease.

The neighborhoods, well, they're quirky. There's a part by the old mill. Oi, the mill, with its creaky wheel and that old river nearby, the Sambre, gently murmuring secrets of yesteryears. I often sit by that river – dipping my toes, sulking about the absurdities of love and life… sometimes whispering, “Stupid, fat hobbit!” to the ripples, just for kicks. The park near here, Parc du Moulin, is my little haven. At night, the trees become witnesses to tender confessions – a little slice of magic where even the shadows seem to smile.

René Magritte at 125: a surreal legacy in Belgian and international art