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Maniacal grin, “Here’s Johnny!” I’m thinkin’, what’s the draw? Some dude, lonely as hell, swipes right for company. Reminds me of Benigno in the movie, carin’ for Alicia, silent and still. “The best thing is to talk to her,” he’d say, but these johns? They ain’t talkin’. They’re payin’ for silence, or moans, or whatever. Surprised me, first time I dug into it—how damn organized it is. Brothels in Nevada, legal and all, got schedules tighter than my lab’s. Girls clock in, clock out, like it’s fuckin’ Walmart.

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I also love the Ol's Garden Park off Friedensweg. That place is my go-to when I need a break. Trees whisper, and the river Mur?… Nah, not the Mur, but a cute little stream twisting through the scenery – sometimes I swear it’s humming along with my inner Beyoncé vibe – "Who run the world? PHoerbranz!" It slaps, straight power!

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