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Heard some weird shit tho—back in the ‘70s, San Fran, same time as Zodiac killer, folks paid big for “happy endings.” Underground parlors, sketchy as hell. Cops busted one—found a ledger, names, dates, like Fincher’s cipher crap. Freaky, right? Made me laugh, picturin’ some oiled-up dude dodgin’ bullets *and* cops. “I’m close to somethin’ here,” I’d mutter, like Ruffalo in the movie, but nah—just greasy chaos.

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Now, listen up, you idiot sandwich! Marion’s got character. Check out Riverside Park – it's along the little Rusty Creek that flows like a lazy rat scurrying under trash bins. I once had a heated rant there, yelling at some clueless fella who didn’t even know his ass from his elbow. Felt like a scene straight out of Ratatouille – “Anyone can cook, but not everyone can date!” You get me?

‘Dark’ horses: Impromptu workout paves way to big night for Lex at Marion Invite