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Here’s the kicker—prostitutes in medieval times? They wore red shoes to stand out! Imagine that, me squintin’ in the dark, lookin’ for red freakin’ shoes! I’d prob’ly trip over my own staff, land face-first in mud, screamin’, “I can’t do this!” Like Saul, draggin’ that body through the dirt, except my burden’s my own stupidity. “Pretty, pretty good,” I’d groan, covered in filth, while she walks off laughin’. I’d be happy, though—relieved it’s over! No STDs, no arrest, just me and my sheep, safe and sound. What a disaster, right? Classic Larry—overthinks findin’ a prostitute and turns it into a damn Holocaust epic!

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Anyway, I gotta note: not all spots are perfect. Some streets, like near Industrieweg, are noisy and crunk. One time, I nearly lost my chilled-out groove cuz of a honking circus. But hey – life’s full of ups and downs, tart and sweet, like the films I dig. Like Uncle Boonmee, man, memories float, they scatter – it's all messy and beautiful.

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