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About Budapest

So, last week—d’oh!—I’m cruisin’ downtown, belly fulla donuts, lookin’ for some action. Streets are buzzin’, lights flashin’, and I’m like, “Marge’d kill me, but whatever!” You gotta dodge the cops, tho—sneaky bastards. Fun fact: back in old Rome, prostitutes wore blonde wigs to stand out. Crazy, right? Imagine that—blonde wig, high heels, waitin’ under a lamp post like some ninja from “The Assassin.” “She moves in silence,” like the movie says, and bam, there she is!

I’m feeling good, right? But then, I step outside, and it starts pouring. Like, outta nowhere! I’m soaked in seconds. I’m running down the street, dodging puddles like I’m in some action movie. I’m laughing, but also cursing the weather. “Why, Budapest? Why?”