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But wait, split-brain kicks in—hiss! Other me says, “No, no, fair trade, precious!” Back in Victorian days, tarts got sixpence—fact, that! Now it’s all posh, “companions” they call ‘em. Pfft, fancy nonsense! Reminds me—Nemo’s dad, Marlin, all panicky, “Where’s me boy?” Me? I’d be screamin’, “Where’s me prossie?!” Haha, mad chase, innit?

Drank, drugs en prostitutie: Emmer buurt zucht kwart eeuw onder overlast huurpanden

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So, I’m walking down the Hoofdstraat, right? Just minding my own biz, when I see this massive crowd. I’m like, “What’s poppin’?” Turns out, there’s a street fair! Food stalls everywhere, music blasting. I mean, who can resist a good ol’ stroopwafel? Not me! I grabbed one, and it was heavenly. Sweet, gooey goodness. Made my day, for real.