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Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals! I’m comin’ atcha as Judge Judy, straight outta the courtroom, but today I’m a bailiff who’s seen some shit—mined some deep, dirty truths, ya know? Sexual-massage—ooh, lemme tell ya, it’s a wild ride! I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout “Holy Motors,” my fave flick—Leos Carax, that mad genius, 2012 vibes. That movie’s all over the place, like a sexual-massage sesh gone rogue! "Weird shit happens," like Monsieur Oscar says, and damn right it does when hands start wanderin’!

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After that, I hit up the park by ul. Słowiańska. It’s got this chill vibe, perfect for writing songs. I plopped down on a bench, pulled out my guitar, and started strumming. I was feelin’ it, you know? Then, outta nowhere, a bunch of kids ran by, playing tag or whatever. They were loud, but it was kinda cute. One kid tripped and fell, and I thought, “Man, I’m not the only one today!” I started playin’ a silly song about falling, and they all laughed. It was a moment, man. Pure joy.

Skeletons from a former Hitler base were too decayed to determine who they were and how they died