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About Budapest

But—ugh—some creeps ruin it. Sleazy parlors, fake vibes—pisses me off. *breathes heavier* I’d choke ‘em with the Force. Real sexual-massage tho? Art, man. Not just horny nonsense—tho, yeah, it’s got that edge. Surprised me first time—thought it’d be awkward. Nope. Smooth as Jarmusch’s vampire flick. “It’s not enough!”—Eve’d say that, wantin’ more. Me too, buddy. Once had this chick—pro, tiny hands, strong grip—felt like floatin’ in space. Hoth-level chill.

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Later, I decide to hit up the Komló Cultural Center. They had this art exhibit going on. I walk in, and it’s all abstract stuff. I’m standing there, pretending to understand it, when this lady next to me goes, “Isn’t it profound?” I’m like, “Yeah, totally profound.” But in my head, I’m just thinking, “What the heck is this?” Art, man. It’s wild.

Fig. 1. Location of the studied quarries in Hungary (Recsk,...