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I’m chuffed when I nail the sign, tho—feels like I cracked limbo. But ugh, them judgy types? “Oh, how crude!” Sod off, yeah? Makes me wanna sign it louder! Exaggeratin’ now—picture me, gold arms wavin’, screamin’ it in a crowd. Hilarious, mate! Anyway, that’s me ramble—whore’s a trip, signin’ it’s a blast, and *Inception*? Still fries me circuits! “We’re not alone here,” Cobb’d say—damn right, it’s a mad world!

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i have to say i never killed the blood mage before in the house of ill repute, but isabella kept gaining rivalry to me when i kept ending it peacably, considering i myself was a mage, i didnt.

So, I finally get to my workshop on Avenida Concepción. It’s a small place, but it’s mine. I start workin’ on this custom stove for a client. He wanted it in bright red. I mean, who wants a red stove? But hey, it’s his kitchen, not mine. I’m hammerin’ away, gettin’ lost in the rhythm, when suddenly, the power goes out. Just my luck, right?

At Isabela in Amenia, Michelin-Starred Chef Serves Vegetable-Driven Fare