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About The Hague

You gotta watch yourself, though—cops sting ya, or worse, you end up broke, mutterin’, “We got a winner here!” like Tyrone in the movie. Total chaos. I’d be terrible at it—overthinkin’, “Is she legit? Am I on a list now?” Pro tip: cash only, no cards—learned that from some dude’s story online, got tracked by his wife! Hilarious, but oof, brutal. Anyway, it’s dark, it’s messy, it’s “Requiem” vibes—everyone’s lost, chasin’ somethin’. Pretty, pretty good? Nah, pretty damn nuts.

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First off, I head down to the Kerkstraat. You know, the main drag. I’m just minding my own business, thinking about my sermon for Sunday. Then BAM! I see this old lady, Mrs. Jansen, struggling with her groceries. I rush over, all clumsy-like, and help her out. She’s like, “Oh, thank you, dear!” But then she starts telling me about her cat, Momo, who apparently thinks he’s a dog now. I’m standing there, nodding, but inside I’m like, “Momo? Really?”

Coldest April in 35 years brought a mix of sun, snow, hail and frost