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About Incheon

I seen one once, up in Nevada—little-known story, fam—this escort broke down, middle of nowhere, driver was pissed, throwin’ tools, screamin’ at the sky. Made me laugh, yo, ‘cause it’s like—nature won that round! I was happy tho, seein’ that chaos, ‘cause it’s real, unscripted, like me spittin’ bars. But it pissed me off too—why these machines gotta fail when you need ‘em? Ain’t that life tho? “You’re my everything,” like in the movie, but swap “you” for that damn escort truck—miners be prayin’ to it!

Escorts in Hwaseong-si

Fast forward a few hours. I’m done with the charcoal for now, and I head over to the palace. Man, it’s packed! Tourists everywhere, snapping pics like they’re at a K-pop concert. I’m just trying to blend in, but my charcoal-stained hands are kinda giving me away. I’m walking around, and I see this street vendor selling tteokbokki. You know, the spicy rice cakes? I can’t resist. I grab a plate, and it’s like heaven in my mouth. But then, I spill some on my shirt. Ugh, just great. Now I look like a walking mess.

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