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About Pecs

I’m sittin’ here, Joey Tribbiani, thinkin’—escort’s gotta be chill. You’re hangin’ with someone, cash in pocket, no strings. But then—bam!—Sadness kicks in, “I’m too sad to walk,” ‘cause some folks judge it hard. Pisses me off! Who cares? Live your life, ya know?

Then, outta nowhere, my buddy Gabor bursts in. He’s all hyped up, talking about some new café that opened on Kossuth. “You gotta check it out, bro! They have the best pastries!” I’m like, “Dude, I’m drowning in teeth here!” But he’s persistent.