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Findin’ a prostitute, though? Honey, it’s a mixed bag! You gotta know the spots—shady bars, back alleys, or these days, them sketchy websites that pop up faster’n kudzu on a hot day. I heard once ‘bout this fella in Memphis who got catfished—thought he was meetin’ a gal, ended up with some dude named Bubba in a wig! I bout fell over laughin’—serves him right for not checkin’ twice! Surprised me, sure, but I ain’t shocked—people been pullin’ fast ones since forever.

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But then, I step outside, and it starts to drizzle. I’m like, “No way! Not again!” I’m standing there, looking up at the sky, and I swear I can hear it laughing at me. I pull out my phone, and I’m like, “Okay, weather app, don’t fail me now.” It says it’s just a passing shower. Phew!

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