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So, I’m in London, right, dodgy alley, neon lights flickerin’. This bird struts up—heels clickin’, skirt tighter than M’s budget. I’m like, “Well, hello, darling—fancy a martini?” She laughs, all smoky, says, “Cash first, lover.” Fair play, I’m not shaken, just stirred—gotta respect the hustle. Did ya know, back in the ‘60s, Soho was crawlin’ with prossies? Coppers called it the “Square Mile of Vice”—wild times, mate! Makes me happy thinkin’ how it’s still kickin’, history alive in fishnets.

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I frequent Quaker Park on Riverside Drive by mornin’. The river flowin’ by, the leisurely sound of ripple—like a lullaby, darlin’. Sometimes I get lost in thought, recallin’ that twist in “A Serious Man”: “Everything’s gonna be just fine… or not!” Ain’t life a hoot?

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