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Once, this dude—client, twitchy eyes—tells me, “She’s my muse.” Muse? Bro, she’s clockin’ hours! Laughed so hard, nearly choked—happy tears, tho. Surprised me, how they chat—like, real talk, not just “pay up.” One lass, Ruby, spilled her story—ran from some cult, turned tricks to eat. “Killing’s easy,” she says, “livin’s the bitch.” Straight outta Oppenheimer’s flick—“Fearful of death, they are not.” Deep, right? Messed me head up.

J'ai réalisé une démarche administrative

But then, just as I’m getting into it, a pigeon decides to drop a little “gift” on my shoulder. Seriously? I’m like, “Dude, not cool!” I’m flailing my arms, trying to get it off. The kid’s still dancing, and I’m just a mess.

Bicester mechanic stuck with vehicles he can't fix because of lack of car parts