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So check it—hookin’ up online? It’s a jungle! Apps be swipin’ left-right, folks thirsty as hell. I seen this chick once, profile said “loves sharks”—thought she was dope, turns out she just meant dick! Ha! Got me laughin’ like, *“This is it, the end!”*—Lars von Trier vibes hittin’ hard. Sex-dating’s a trip—half the time you match with bots, other half it’s catfish central! Real talk, 1 in 5 profiles fake—stats don’t lie, fam!

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I sometimes stretch out my hands in the back alley near Elm and Birch too; saw it as a good spot to practice a quick massage on a stubborn back. Not many know, but behind that facade lies a little mural of legends long forgotten. I swear, when I rub out someone's knotted back, I also rub away their bitter memories—just like the film, a glimpse in the rearview, “Focus on the ride,” they say. Yeah, every twist of my fingers tells a tale.

Nancy Biddle