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*heavy breathing* I find your lack of faith disturbing, man. Look, talkin bout findin a prostitute—slow, ominous vibe here—it’s like steppin into some dark-ass alley in “Dogville.” That flick, fave of mine, 2003 Lars von Trier joint, hits differnt. Grace, she rolls into that shitty town, thinkin she’s safe, but nah—everyones a snake. Same deal with hookers, bro. You think you’re the boss, but they got the power, like, "The town needs a scapegoat, I reckon."

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Antique lamp/lantern holders from the Chicken Ranch brothel that used to operate in La Grange. Texas History. Alexa, play “La Grange” by ZZ Top.

I noticed certain corners that others miss. Like where the cherry trees bloom in Fort St. – pure bliss! My spa clients rave ‘bout our secret garden on Maple. Shh, don’t tell nobody! It’s our chill-out spot, like Mad Max shoutin’ “I live, I ride, I REIGNS!” when the dust storms hit. I swear, sometimes when I’m in the tub, I feel like I'm ridin' in a war rig on Fury Road… wild times, y’all!

Details On Jim Cantore’s Girlfriend, Meteorologist Jobie Lagrange