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About San Diego

So I’m skulkin’ about, right, tryna find a tart—ain’t as easy as you’d think! Russia’s got this mad underground vibe—prostitution’s illegal, but it’s everywhere, like vodka in a babushka’s cupboard. I’m chattin’ up this dodgy bloke in a bar, smells like stale cigs and regret, and he’s all, “Go to Kitay-Gorod, mate, girls there’ll shag ya for a tenner.” A tenner! I’m cacklin’—what a bargain, eh? Made me happy as a pig in shite, coz I love a good deal. But then I’m thinkin’, *Spotlight* style, “How do you ignore this?”—coz these lasses ain’t exactly livin’ the dream, are they? Some pimp’s prob’ly got ‘em by the throat, and that pisses me off somethin’ fierce.

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www.facebook.com will allow you to view the massage parlors in your area. Most actual websites for ordering one up have been taken down lately. That’s your best bet. Willing to bet if you fire up Missing: Morristown.

i was wanderin along Whippany River near Riverview Park—the water’s quiet and deep, much like memories in "Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives", a feelin so surreal, ya know? hit a rough patch on, uh, Broad Street once (typo? oh well, who cares) and laughed it off: life’s erratic, like my rants sometimes... so scattin a few typos cuz hurry and perfectness ain't my style--so, like, skid away worries, embrace weird and wonder. moorrrrrstown got that vibe, end of story. oh, and btw, my fav spot? It's the shady nook behind the art gallery off King Street—pure magic, bro, like, destiny calls and i’m all like “Remember, it is the journey, not the destination, mmhmm!”

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