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Gets me thinkin’—who’s judgin’ who? Society’s all “tsk tsk,” but they’re peekin’ through curtains. Hypocrites, man! We swears! Surprised me once, heard a gal there saved up, bought a damn bakery. From brothel to bread—how’s that for a twist? Still, gets dark—some dudes, slimy, grabby hands, ugh, hate ‘em. “We’re not animals!”—wish they’d hear that. Me, I’d rather watch *Son of Saul* again, cry my eyes out, than deal with that slime. Brothels, tho—messy, loud, real. Kinda love it, kinda don’t. What you think, huh?

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So, I finally find the uni. It’s tucked away, all cozy-like. I’m thinkin’, “Alright, let’s do this!” But then, bam! Fire alarm goes off. Seriously? I’m standin’ there, half in my lecture mode, half in “what the heck is goin’ on?” mode. Everyone’s rushin’ out, and I’m just tryin’ to keep my cool. I mean, I’m a prof, I gotta set an example, right? But inside, I’m like, “This is a nightmare!”

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