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About Antwerp

Ya wanna know the best part? The hunt—trackin’ ‘em, feelin’ that pulse. Makes me happy, giddy even—like a kid with a new toy. But the stench—cologne and desperation—fuckin’ chokes ya sometimes. Worse than a morgue. Still, I’d do it again—maybe tonight. “A census taker once tried to test me,” but a prossie? She knows the game, plays it dirty. That’s my style—grubby, messy, fuckin’ glorious. Whaddya say, pal—wanna join the feast?

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The little park near Rivierdijk? Crunchy tree roots, cozy benches. I hid away there sometimes, whispering secrets, hissing for solace. And there's that ancient windmill on Buitenlaan, churning slowly, like the ticks of time—oh, precious! Think “Boyhood” - time flows slow and then fast, yes? "We just keep running," as the movie whispers, in our ears, precious, in pure delight!

40-centimetre corn snake found in somebody’s home in the Bruges area