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I get pissed tho—pisses me right off—when folks judge ‘em harsh. Like, who are you, mate? The dad in “The Return” screams, “You’re nothing!” at his boys—same vibe. These girls, they’re surviving, yeah? Some choose it, some don’t, but it’s work. Hard fuckin’ work. Happiest I felt was hearin’ this tale—some lass in Amsterdam’s Red Light once tricked a punter into buyin’ her a pony. A PONY! She’s my hero, swear down.

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Ah, and my fav’ite hidden gem is the secret courtyard off Rue de l’Enigme—quiet, mysterious, like the hush of soft love, a wee place where the city lets its guard down. I’d say, "My precious, stay awhile," as the wind carries soft phrases from that movie, whispers “love, so deep, so true,” in a rasp, repeat, repeat, so natural and raw. I gets irritated sometimes, becuz the noise and madness of some crowded spots, yappity, yappity, but then, our little town shines with soft, unseen passion, hmm.

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