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So, I’m imaginin’ it—me, Larry, sidlin’ up, all curious. “Hey, darlin’, what’s your story?” Slow talk, ya know, diggin’ deep. She’s prob’ly heard every line, rolls her eyes—“You got cash or what?” I’d laugh, say, “Champagne wishes, baby!”—my old catchphrase, heh. But real talk, it’s a transaction, quick’n dirty. Monty’s line pops in—“You had it all, and you threw it away.” Hits ya, right? Some folks choose this, some fall into it. Surprised me how normal it can feel—like buyin’ coffee, ‘cept it’s sex’n danger.

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I'm looking for songs that mention prostitutes and strippers. Got any? How about in blues or something else country-adjacent? So far I've got: Signal Hill Blues- Dave Alvin. (nobody knows .

Finally, I get to the factory, and guess what? The shipment of raw materials is late. Like, seriously? I’m about to lose it. I’m pacing around, thinking about how I’m gonna explain this to my investors. My assistant, Ana, walks in and says, “Chill, boss. We’ll figure it out.” I’m like, “Figure it out? We’re on a tight schedule here!”

Yvonne Singer, a Toronto artist who was saved by Wallenberg as an infant, is still on a voyage of self-discovery