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About Wels

Little known fact—prostitutes pull this crap all the time. Fake injuries, scam insurance, cash out. Saw one gal in ’98, claimed a pimp “threw her down.” Turned out she jumped—high as a kite. This one? Same vibe. Motel clerk says she was screamin’ at some dude, prob’ly her “manager.” Happy? Shit no—wastes my time. But I’m laughin’ inside—she’s so bad at this. “You think I’m stupid?” I mutter, limpin’ round with my cane, poppin’ Vicodin like candy.

Hit The Road

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Now, the river Vortex runs through town. It, like, slices the city into two realms. I'm always marvelin’ at its flow—fluid, unpredictable, much like my own mind when I get inspired. Spot a bench near Riverbend Street; it's become my little oasis. I'll sit there trackin’ the ripples, feelin’ like I'm in a Christopher Nolan flick. “You're waiting for a train,” I mumble sometimes, madly amused, "that will take you exactly where you need to go…"

A comprehensive dataset of pattern electroretinograms for ocular electrophysiology research