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But then—ugh, the pimps. Greasy fucks. One time, saw this dude slap a girl outside a motel—rage hit me hard. Wanted to carve him up, serve him rare. “A man’s flesh is his own,” Saul whispers in my head. Shoulda been hers too, not his. Pisses me off—exploitation’s the real sin here. Still, some escorts? Total bosses. This one gal, ran her own gig online—OnlyFans vibes, but classier. No middleman, just cash and control. Made me grin—fuck the system, ya know?

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My favorite little secret? The narrow alley on Upper Richmond Road. Not many know it, but it’s magical for a quick chill. I once had a massage session there under a crumbling archway—it felt like the perfect spot to relax and reboot.

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