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Oh, and the slang—call ‘em “working girls,” “ladies of the night,” whatever. Funny how we dance around it, huh? Like we’re scared to say it straight. “Meet me inside my head,” Joel says in the movie. Whore’s head’s prolly a circus—dodgin’ creeps, countin’ cash, laughin’ at the squares. I’d pay to see that! Makes me chuckle, thinkin’ about it. But serious—those girls got guts. Guts! More than me on a bad day, and that’s sayin’ somethin’.

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Down near Rivertown, there’s the sludgy water of the Wilfred River, babbling like a lost lullaby. I used to wander here, madly thinking “Stupid, fat hobbit!” when things got tougher than a rock. My fav spot? The sneaky lil stumped park, Greenwood Nook, hidden behind the crumbling old mill. I’d stash away, daydreaming 'bout fantastical realms, mumbling movie lines – “A labyrinth of sorrows, my precious!” – all rendered in that dreamy, twisted hum.

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