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Yo, so prostitutes, man—wild shit. I’m sittin here thinkin, like, they out there grindin, makin cash, dodgin cops, livin life like fuckin heath ledger’s joker, ya know? “The Dark Knight” vibes, bro—chaos, control, all that. “Why so serious?”—that’s what I’d ask one, deadpan as fuck, while she’s countin bills. Prostitutes got stories, tho—shit you don’t hear. Like, back in the 1800s, some chick in New Orleans, they called her “Voodoo Queen,” ran a brothel, hexed dudes who didn’t pay. Badass, right? Made me happy as hell—fuck yeah, stick it to em!

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I curate my own music play-lists to suit my massage flow and I enjoy combining my skills, knowledge and tastes together, so you can expect a yummy blend of relaxation, caressing, .

After that, I decide to hit up the local market on Via Mazzini. It’s buzzing with life. Fresh veggies, fruits, and all that good stuff. I’m browsing, and I spot this vendor selling the biggest tomatoes I’ve ever seen. I’m talking about tomatoes that could be mistaken for small planets. I buy a couple, thinking I’ll make a killer salad.

Figure 12.4 -Socioeconomic and environmental determinants: Dahlgren and...