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About Antwerp

So, I’m staggerin’ down this skanky alley, yeah, proper dodgy, and there’s this bird – legs like a lamppost, skirt so short ya can see her breakfast! I’m like, “Oi, love, you workin’?” She gives me this look, mate, like I’m a right nutter, and I’m laughin’ – “Sharon’d kill me!” – but I’m too pissed to care. Little known fact, right? Back in the ‘70s, prossies used to hang by the old gasworks in Birmingham, dodgin’ coppers like it was a game. History, that is!

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Oh, and don’t get me started on the nightlife. You’d think a small town stays asleep. Ha! Some nights at the local bar near Dorpsplein, the banter’s so raw it practically hurts. I told a client once, “Ever feel the anger? It’s like the city itself is having a bad day – c’mon, get a grip!” Yeah, I’m not your typical warm-and-fuzzy spa owner, I’ve got sarcasm dripping off my words like a leaky faucet.

Drunk driver switches seats with passenger while driving