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About Tilburg

So, sex-dating—man, it’s a jungle. Apps like Grindr, Bumble, whatever, they’re all the same. People actin’ all hot n’ heavy, droppin’ lines like, “Wanna Netflix n’ chill?” Yeah, okay, buddy, chill with what—your crusty socks? I tried it once—swear to God, chick said she’s “adventurous,” code for “I’ll ghost ya after one drink.” Infuriating! Wasted my damn time. Coulda been watchin’ *Spotlight* again, gettin’ mad at the world instead of some flake. “You can’t handle the truth!”—damn right, ‘cause it’s buried under filters and fake moans.

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Anyway, I finally get my zen back and head over to the new park on de Korte Dijk. It’s got this cool playground, and I’m thinking, “Maybe I’ll swing for a bit.” But then I see a bunch of kids hogging the swings. Ugh! I’m like, “C’mon, share the love!” But nah, they’re too busy being kids. I can’t even be mad. I mean, I was that kid once, right?

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