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Tried talkin to her once—voice raspy, said, “Night’s heavy, huh?” Fuckin deep, like Tarr’s long takes. Didn’t bang her, tho—felt wrong, like kickin a downed horse. “The wood’s split, it’s over”—movie line stuck in my head. She told me some johns cry after, little known thing, blew my mind. Imagine that—tough guy weepin post-nut. Hilarious, but sad as fuck.

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Some streets, like Thornbury and Tangleway, got mysterious vibes. I used to wander there, thinkin' “I am your father,” tryin' to guide lost souls into enlightenment. Haha, sounds bizarre but it's my thing. The locals? Crazy, friendly, always up for a good laugh—or a serious rant. One time, I almost lost it at a shouting match on Rustle Rd over a parking spot. Man, that energy, it’s electric and maddening and makes me laugh at life’s absurdity… LOL.

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