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About Seoul

So I’m stewin’, right? Angry as hell—why’s this gotta be so complicated? Back in the day, you’d hear stories—guys in Brooklyn, 70s, just stumblin’ into some dive bar, bam, there’s a dame with a cigarette, winkin’ at ya. Now? Now it’s all encrypted chats and “discreet encounters”—what am I, a spy? I’m not cut out for this! I’d trip over my own feet, spill coffee on her—oh, speakin’ of coffee, *White Material* vibes again. “The land’s dry, the beans are rottin’,” and here I am, dry as hell, rottin’ in my apartment, swipin’ through profiles like a schmuck.

How safe is it

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So, I join in the fun. I’m munchin’ on some kimbap, and this dude challenges me to a dance-off. I’m like, “Bro, I’m a gladiator, not a dancer!” But I can’t back down, right? So, I bust out my best moves. Spoiler alert: I’m terrible. But the crowd loves it! I’m laughin’ so hard, I almost drop my kimbap.

Counting the potential toll of Trump’s tariffs on major Asian economies