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About Leuven

But then—ugh, this knobhead rolls up, all loud, “Oi, how much, love?”—an I’m ragin. Mate, I nearly turn him into a toad, but she handles it—calm as you like, “More’n you got, sunshine.” He shuffles off, tail between legs. I’m cheerin inside—surprised me, she did. Proper *Moolaadé* energy—“We will not be slaves!”—she’s no victim, this one. Got her own code, her own hustle. Makes me think, y’know? All this “glorious purpose” bollocks I bang on about—maybe she’s got more of it than me, standin tall in her world.

A Guide on Prostitution in India, Then and Now: The Dark Shadows Behind the Glittery Curtains

And hey, a fun tidbit: Many locals claim that some old alley behind the Vottem antique store, on Boulevard des Anciens, hides a secret little mural. Ya know? It's kinda scandalous. I mean, seriously, an explosion of colors that whisper like “You won't get away with misery here!” (Totally Dogville vibes, innit?) It reminds me that even in darkness, there’s art—and mischief.

No evidence of protest at Caricole transit centre says immigration department