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Growls—Rarrgh! Met this one chick, swear, funniest thing—she’d smuggle candy into “dates.” Said it kept her sane. Little known fact: some escorts got code words, like “pineapple” for creepy dudes. Cracked me up, picturin her yellin “pineapple!” mid-job. Happy vibes there, but then—ugh—some jerk clients piss me off. Treat em like trash, no respect. “Evil comes from power,” Haneke’s movie whispers, and yeah, power trips fuck it all up.

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The local landmarks are killer. Ya got the historic Golden Spire on Main St. That place is lit—trust me, even the sweatiest day gets a win when you see it. Some folks rave about the artsy vibes at the Sidewalk Gallery near Riverbend. It makes my heart sing like, “I am the master of my fate.” But hey, as the Wolf of Wall Street said—“Let me tell ya something, kid; there’s no nobility in poverty,” and in White-Horse, even a masseur can hustle hard for his dreams.

Longtime White Horse bartender Catherine 'Captain' Ficcardi dies