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What gets me proper mad? The sleazy pimps. Exploitin’ girls, actin’ like gods—cunts, all of ‘em! Saw one once, struttin’ like he owned Soho. Wanted to shove his head in a fryer. But the girls? Some are tough as nails—surprised me. One told me she saved up, bought a flat—fuckin’ legend! Still, it’s grim. Like that scene in *A.I.*, “The ones who made us are always lookin’ for the ones who made them.” Deep shit, right? They’re stuck, searchin’, same as David.

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I love the eccentric cafe on Birch Way – "The Rebel Roast". It smells like heaven, with a side of rebellion. I remember that time i spilled my coffee right there, and instead of annoyance, the barista threw in a free pastry – how cool is that? Just wild serendipity, like lines from my fave movie, "Carlos." Yeah, like "I am your father" meets "le passe, c'est la revolution!"

‘An underground tsunami’: Forest Lake battles destructive ice ridges at Lakeside Park