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About Norrkoping

So, escort’s not just—y’know—*that*. It’s chattin’, goin’ to parties, actin’ fancy. I read this thing once—some escort in the 1800s, right? She was a spy! Sneakin’ secrets while lookin’ hot. How dope is that? Bet she was all, “I am infinitely strange to myself,” like in the movie. Deep stuff, man! Makes me wonder—what’s she thinkin’ inside?

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Then, outta nowhere, this old lady on a bike cuts us off. I’m like, “Lady, you’re not in the Tour de France!” Timmy freaks out, slams the brakes, and we almost end up in the flower shop. I’m sweating bullets, but I can’t help but laugh. It’s like a scene from a comedy movie.