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What gets me goat? The bloody hypocrites! Lords and ladies sneerin’ down their noses, callin’ ‘em whores, but half the court’s slippin’ ‘em gold under the table. Makes me wanna smash a goblet—*clang*! Hypocrisy’s thicker than a Dornish stew. But what makes me happy? The hustle! These girls (and lads, mind ya) got grit. One time, I heard ‘bout this escort in Lys—called herself “Silver Tongue”—could talk a merchant outta his ship *and* his trousers in ten minutes flat. Ballsy as hell, I’d buy her a drink just for the laugh.

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Man, I recall lounging at Annandale Park. It's the best spot! Grass n soft benches everywhere. Got a sweet pond on the east end. Sometimes i even doodle my dreams there. It’s just so awsm. Dunno why it's magical, feelin' like life’s a big sandwich. And hey, insiders say there's a secret mural behind Maple. No joke, pure art!

Fred Henry Hood