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Angry again—labs don’t fund escort studies much. Stingy bastards, missin’ out big time! “Yi Yi” vibes, tho—“Every day’s a gift,” and escort’s my gift, precious! Exaggeratin’ now, maybe, but feels like it runs the cell, king of the joint! Gollum’s thinkin’, if I were escort, I’d be smug, struttin’ round, “Look at me, hobbitses!” Anyway, mate, that’s escort—wild, weird, fuckin’ ace. Gotta bounce, brain’s buzzin’—stupid, fat hobbit!

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Then I decide to stroll down to Parc de la Mairie. It’s a nice spot, right? But as I’m walking, I see this old lady trying to cross the street at Rue des Écoles. And let me tell ya, she was moving slower than a snail on a lazy day. I’m standing there, thinking, “C’mon, lady, we got places to be!” But then, she looks up and gives me this huge smile. Like, wow, that made my day.

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