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About Eindhoven

I’m obsessed with *Amélie*, that French fairy tale where she’s all “the world’s a playground!” Escort’s kinda the opposite—more like “the world’s a hustle, deal with it.” Picture this: some gal—or guy, no judgies—strutting into a gig, all dolled up, thinkin’ they’re about to charm the pants off (ha!) some rich weirdo. Next thing, they’re dodging a dude who’s like, “I paid, so you’re mine.” Gross. Makes me wanna scream louder than when I flubbed my *SNL* lines. Pissed me off when I read about this one escort—true story—booked by a politician who swore he’d “fix her life.” Yeah, right, buddy, fix your comb-over first.

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So, I’m fuming, but I can’t let it get to me. I take a deep breath, and I’m like, “Fine, I’ll move.” I pack up my stuff and head over to the other side of the street, near the park. You know, the one with the big fountain? Yeah, that’s where I set up next.

A cross-sectional study on fatigue, anxiety, and symptoms of depression and their relation with medical status in adult patients with Marfan syndrome. Psychological consequences in Marfan syndrome