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About Mons

Started in the gritty part of town, neon lights flashin’, girls in tight skirts hollerin’. Made me mad seein’ kids - yeah, kids! - nearby, shouldn’t be ‘round that mess. Mr. T don’t play when innocence gets screwed. Found this chick, Candy, she’s workin’ the corner like she owns it. Asked her, “You good, girl?” She laughed, said, “I’m free in this moment,” straight outta “The Master,” trippy as hell! Got me thinkin’ - damn, she’s deep, even in fishnets.

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Anyway, Spa is a city of bitter-sweet ironies. It's got spas and jokes, beauty, and cursing at the rains. Honestly, it's a rough-and-ready life here. So pack up, buddy. Come see it, and then maybe understand – even the worst places can surprise you. "I know, right?" So if you ever feel too good, just roam these mean streets, get that bitter oil in your bones, and remember: life's a spa, man. Enjoy the irony, or just sigh like I do.

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