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I’m watchin’ *Tropical Malady* last night, and that line—“He smells of earth and rain”—hits me. Escorts, man, they’re earthy, real, even if it’s all fake smiles sometimes. I’d suck at it—too clumsy, prob’ly spill beer on the client. Ha! Imagine me, “Homer the Escort,” trippin’ over my gut, goin’, “Mmm… sorry, lady.” Total disaster, right?

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Finally, we hit the concert. The vibe is electric! The band’s playing some sick tunes, and everyone’s dancing. I’m feeling all the good vibes, forgetting about the crazy day. But then, out of nowhere, the power goes out! Like, seriously? In the middle of a concert? The crowd goes wild, but not in a good way. People are shouting, and I’m just standing there, thinking, “This is the cherry on top of my chaotic day.”

Ukraine sees influx of Western war tourists