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So, where d’ya even start? Streets, apps—shit’s everywhere now. Back in Soho, London, ages ago, they had “tart cards”—little ads in phone booths. Cheeky, dirty, genius! Imagine Mia flippin’ through ‘em, all “life’s a fuckin’ mess.” Now it’s all online—Escort sites, dodgy X posts. You scroll, you pick—bam, done. But it ain’t that simple, nah. Some girls got pimps—makes me mad as Hel. Exploitation pisses me off—freedom’s my thing, right?

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Oh, and don’t get me started on the neighborhoods. Eastside’s got that artsy vibe – graffiti lurks on every corner along Bohemian Walk and Salty Street. Westside, though? That’s the uptight, billionaire type turf with manicured hedges and too-cheerful gardens, makes me mad sometimes. I can’t stand how perfect it all looks – crap, I was like “Everybody lies!” Right?

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