Evelyn Roth Find A Prostitute ❤️

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Lemme paint this—me, cruisin’ downtown, heels clackin’, lookin’ fierce. See this chick, fishnets, smokin’ a cig, bold as hell. I’m like, “Yaaas, you’re the star!” Reminds me of Anwar in the flick, struttin’ like he owns the world. “Death’s a celebration,” he says—ha! She’s celebratin’ somethin’, too, maybe just survivin’. I’m shook—how’s she so chill? Prolly seen it all. Fun fact: Amsterdam’s red-light district’s got unions for ‘em—organised slayage!

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Vincent and I spoke avidly about Philip Roth and the lifelong criticism the author faced about his unlikeable male characters.

I always find meself starin’ at the old brewery near Weinbergweg—a relic o’ bygone days when barrels and ale ruled the bay, err, streets! Anecdote time: One foggy night, after a spirited debate 'bout our fine dating site (aye, my craft, y'see), I stumbled into a hidden courtyard off Am Hafen. It wasn’t on yer tourist map, but there I was, starin’ into the deep, mysterious eyes of Roth, much like in that flick “Fish Tank”—“Did you see it, with the dark eyes and all?” Real cinema, mate!

The truth about David Lee Roth’s M3 Festival performance from a reporter present