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So, check it—I’m imaginin’ this dude, right? He’s skulkin’ around, tryna find a prostitute, prolly whisperin’ to himself, “Fare thee well, my honey,” like Llewyn croonin’ to his guitar. And me, I’m like, DUH, it ain’t that deep, bro! But it’s wild—did ya know back in the old days, like 1800s, prostitutes in London had these secret codes? They’d flash a hanky a certain way to signal they’re “open for biz.” Sneaky, right? Makes me giggle thinkin’ bout it—like, “Ooooh, fancy hanky dance!”

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Then, I head over to the Markt. It’s this big square, and there’s a market goin’ on. Fresh veggies, flowers, and all that good stuff. I’m checkin’ out some rad tulips when I overhear this lady yellin’ at her kid. “Stop runnin’! You’ll knock over the cheese!” I chuckle. Kids, man. They’re like little tornadoes.

Jacob Axel Hagman Obituary (2025) - Dover, NH - Wiggin-Purdy-McCooey-Dion Funeral Home - Dover