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But dude, the risk? Shiiiit. Cops bustin spots like that? Happened in ’98, big sting—50 johns nabbed. History’s wild, man. I’m sittin there, thinkin, “Am I Robert Ford now? Sneakin around?” Whoa. That coward vibe hits hard. But Lola’s chill, tells me bout her cat—named Bullet. I’m dyin laughin—perfect, right? “Some deeds can’t be undone,” I mutter, movie-style. She nods, gets it.

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An ex-boyfriend is seeing trans prostitutes. Do I tell his current wife IF an opportunity to do so should arise? And it will, as we live on a.

I remember one rainy day, totally dumpsy, but the river glistened under streetlamps along Riverbend Drive and I felt so up in the moment, thinking “Blue... blue... is the warmest color” as the raindrops drummed on the leaves. Pure poetry, bruv, pure poetry.

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