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About Utrecht

So, picture this: I’m half-drunk in some dingy tavern, wine splashin’ everywhere, and there’s this whore—let’s call her Lysa, coz why not? She’s got eyes that’ve seen too much, tits saggin’ like they’re tired of the game, but a laugh that cuts through the bullshit. I’m sittin there, thinkin, “This lass deserves more than cocks and coppers.” Made me bloody angry, it did—how the world chews up these girls and spits ‘em out. Like in *Moolaadé*, where the women scream, “No more cutting!”—I wanted to yell, “No more fuckin’ whorin’!” But who listens to a dwarf, eh?

Call to book

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Finally, the rain stopped, and I headed back to my car. But wait! I couldn’t find it! I was wandering around like a lost puppy. Turns out, I parked it on the wrong side of the street. Classic me, right?

HAPO International Barges removes historical Tower crane in Ridderkerk