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About Galati

Methinks it’s a dark mirror, brothel is. Shows thee lust, fear, all raw. “There’s no such thing as monsters,” Tom lies—ha! Brothel’s proof they’re real, struttin’ in lace. I’d sup with ‘em, jest fer the tales. Ever wonder who’s the real villain there? The johns or the jades? Shite’s messy, like Cronenberg’s bloodbaths.

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Later, we meet at Parcul Central. It’s beautiful there, with all the trees and flowers. I grab a beer, and we just chill. I’m telling him about my day, and he’s cracking up. “Dude, you should’ve filmed that!”