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But here’s what pisses me off: the system screws ‘em! Cops bust ‘em, pimps beat ‘em, and the rich johns? They walk free, wallets fat, “Billionaires should not exist!” I yell it hoarse—those fat cats pay for sex then preach morals on Sunday. Hypocrisy, man, it’s thick as tar! *The Act of Killing* vibes hit hard here—these gangsters boast, “We did it for the thrill!” Same deal with the elite bangin’ prostitutes then judgin’ ‘em. Thrill of power, nothin’ else! Ruby told me once—get this—some dude tipped her in stock options. Stock options! I’m cacklin’—what’s she gonna do, trade ‘em on the corner?

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Hmm… oh gosh, lemme tell ya 'bout Spring-Lake-Park, hon. It's, like, awfully quirky, ya know? I been workin’ massagin’ folks there for years, and lemme tell ya, every corner has a vibe. Man, oh man, you gotta check out Main St. – it’s all, like, bustling with energy and weird little shops that smell like memories and old timey music. And, hmm… there’s Elm St. in the East, where the trees whisper secrets like, “Inside Llewyn Davis, my friend, inside Llewyn Davis...” hahaha, so trippy!

Spring Lake 50th Anniversary