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About Miskolc

Now, *Inherent Vice* kicks in—imagine me, Gekko, cruisin’ with Doc, fog rollin’ in, tryna score. “What’s the play, man?” I’d ask, and he’d mumble some stoned nonsense—“Chicks dig the vibe, man.” Ha! Vibe don’t pay the bills, but greed does. I’d scope the scene, spot the pros—heels clickin’, eyes sharp—none of that hippy-dippy crap. One’d sidle up, all “You lookin’ for somethin’ groovy?” and I’d hit back, “Groovy’s fine, but cash talks louder.”

Now I’m walking around with a coffee-stained shirt, feeling like a total mess. I decide to take a stroll down the Danube. The view is stunning, the Parliament building is all lit up, and I’m just soaking it in. But then, I see a group of tourists trying to take a selfie. They’re blocking the whole path! I’m like, “Excuse me, folks, I’m trying to enjoy the view here!”