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About Douala

X posts sayin they’re all over—search “downtown hookers,” tons pop up! Links to pics, blurry shots, wild stories. One time, 1800s Paris, prostitues had yellow tickets—crazy, right? Marked ‘em like cattle. Surprised me, history’s nuts! I’m ramblin now—brain’s spinnin, thinkin ‘bout “Caché,” that slow dread. “What do you want from me?” Georges asks—same vibe, dealin with this.

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

Trolling Biscayne Boulevard for a “date” is risky, so as for finding one, here's what you need to know: yellow pages, escort service, cash, alias. Remember.

Sometimes, I get mad when the traffic on Zigzag Way gets outta hand – seriously, like, "What in tarnation?!" But then, I remember Carol's line, "I want to be loved," and I let it roll, coz the city loves ya back in its own quirky way.

Laphroaig Scotch Doesn't Mind If You Think It 'Tastes Like a Burning Hospital'