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About Budapest

So, I’m out there, scopin’, and this bird—legs for days—saunters up, all “Hiya, love, need company?” I’m thinkin’, “Bloody hell, she’s bold!”—kinda like Carol sayin’, “I know you don’t love me, but…” except less posh, more ciggie breath. Made me happy, though—straight-up hustle, no faff. But then—fuckin’ hell—some geezer rocks up, all “Oi, that’s my girl!” and I’m like, “Mate, calm your tits, I ain’t stealin’!” Nearly shat meself—angry pimps? No thanks.

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Finally, I wrap up my day. I’m driving home, and I can’t help but smile. Labatlan is wild, but it’s my wild. I love this city, even with its crazy streets and unexpected calls. It’s like a never-ending adventure, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

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