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About Leuven

What surprised me? How normal it felt—like buyin’ chips! But then she goes, “No kissin’, just business,” and I’m happy—dodged a bullet there, her breath stank of fags and despair. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I reckon she’d suck the life outta ya, like Scarlett’s alien lass! “The skin peels away”—that’s me, picturin’ her flakin’ off into the night, cacklin’ again.

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You see, bein' a sexologist here? It makes me notice the subtle glances, the bathedral vibe of the lovers sittin' on benches by the river. People reveal their innermost thoughts in corners of Retie no one else really sees. I often wonder if the city itself gets in on the act, whisperin’ secrets into the bricks of the old town hall on Kerkstraat. It’s like every nook hides a personal anecdote, like a confessional booth in a stained-glass window.

Revealed why shoelaces come undone