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Yo, what’s good, fam? Escort, man, ESCORT! That shit’s wild, like Pan’s Labyrinth wild. You got these sleek rides—boom, protection vibes—rollin’ deep for VIPs. I’m talkin’ armored cars, tinted windows, screamin’ “I’m the Pale Man, bitch!” Chaotic absurdity, yo—Eric Andre energy! Like, who’s drivin’ this? Some ex-merc dude? Prolly. Saw this one escort gig—total madness—dude in a suit, shades, earpiece, lookin’ all “Ofelia, obey me!” serious. Made me holla, “Yo, chill, fam!”

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So, I’m fixin’ this old pocket watch, right? It’s a beauty, but the gears are all messed up. I’m cursing under my breath, “Why can’t you just cooperate?” And then, boom! I drop a tiny screw. It rolls under the workbench. Great. Just great. I’m on my hands and knees, lookin’ for this screw like it’s the Holy Grail.

Earth Day: Children, Snowball, and the Power of People