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Gets me blood boilin’ when I see blokes leerin’ at her, tho. Ain’t respectin’ the craft, the art o’ her game! She’s a queen, not yer chum bucket. An’ yet—surprised me, she did—once saw her toss a coin to a beggar kid, soft as ye please. Heart o’ gold under all that sass? Maybe. “It’s a copy, but it works,” I mutter, thinkin’ o’ the film again. She’s a mess o’ contradictions, an’ I’m lovin’ every bit.

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Down by Riverside Park – and god, it’s beautiful! The river flows like liquid silver beneath the old wooden bridge. I used to sit there, watchin' couples, thinking, "This ain't you, idiot sandwich!" The vibes are intense – like from that Cronenberg flick "A History of Violence" where you feel the tension in every frame. Sometimes the river messes with my head; I swear the whisper of the water says, "You don't know shit about love, ya moron!" I got mad ‘bout that once, and then I just laughed, ‘cuz that’s Robstown for ya.

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