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About Aalst

And the risks! Oh, man, the risks—STDs, blackmail, some pimp jumpin’ me in an alley. I’m yellin’, “I’m too old for this crap!” Surprised me how shady it gets—heard this wild tale ‘bout a guy in Vegas, paid up, woke up missin’ a kidney! A kidney! True or not, I’m spooked! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but that’s my brain—runnin’ wild, picturin’ me in a bathtub of ice, screamin’, “This is unacceptable!”

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Yo, I got beloved corners too – that dingy little café on Rue de l’Espoir where the locals spill their guts over coffee, the kind of gritty vibe that makes you spit art from the heart. Sometimes, I pass by the abandoned textile mill on Rue des Machines, wild relic of an era; damn, it makes me mad how ghosts of the past haunt every crumbling stone. But it’s beauty, y’know? Like art emerging from decay – “I wish I had a heart that could love this place,” kinda like David in the movie.

Table Football, Major of Frameries: Charlie Aquilina wins Veteran Category