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Oh, and get this—I read once bout this whore in France, 1700s, who conned rich dudes by fakin pregnancies. She’d stuff rags under her dress, cryin, “Oh my baby!” Total scam artist! I laughed so hard I snorted—Homer’d be proud. “Life’s a cycle of tricks,” like Boonmee’d say. She played em all, and I’m here for it! Hmm… sneaky gal.

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Then I hit up this little café on the corner of the Korte Haven. I order a koffie verkeerd. It’s like a latte, but better. I sit outside, soaking in the sun. Life’s good, right? But then, this pigeon swoops down and tries to steal my croissant. I’m like, “Dude, back off!” I swear, these birds have no respect.

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