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About Kecskemet

Last week, saw one outside me flat—stunnin’, mate, legs for days. Felt happy, y’know, just watchin’ her work it—pure art! *“Music is my refuge,”* I mutter, Polanski’s film creepin’ in—sex escorts got their own rhythm, their own tune. But then—BAM—some drunk punter grabs her arm, and I’m ragin’. Wanted to clock him meself! She handled it tho—ice-cold, told him to sod off. Respect, innit?

As the sun started to set, we ended up at a rooftop bar on Andrássy út. The view was killer! I mean, you could see the whole city lit up. I felt so alive, you know? We ordered some drinks, and I was feeling all philosophical. Like, “What’s the meaning of life?” But then, I spilled my drink. Again. I’m a mess, honestly.