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So, picture this – I’m cruisin’ Miami, neon lights flashin’, lookin’ for some action. Not just any chick, nah, I’m talkin’ pros, the real deal. You don’t just stumble on ‘em, nah, it’s a game. Back in the day, they’d hang by the docks – little known fact, bro – sailors rollin’ in, horny as fuck, droppin’ cash. Now? Shit’s digital, apps and ads, but some still old-school it, street corners, smokin’ cigs, givin’ you that look. “I glean therefore I am,” like Varda says – they’re out there, existin’, survivin’.

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After that, I’m trying to focus, but the noise is insane. There’s this group of people on the other side of the pond, laughing and taking selfies. Like, c’mon! Can’t you see I’m trying to have a moment here? I mean, Morohongo’s got its charm, but today? It’s like a circus.

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