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About Uppsala

So yeah, findin’ a prostitute’s a trip—thrillin’, sketchy, kinda beautiful in a twisted way. Like paintin’ with dark colors but findin’ light. I’d say, “Happy little trees, grow wherever ya want,” and mean it. What’s your take, buddy? Ever thought bout it?

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Five days ago I had an encounter with a transsexual prostitute. I found an expensive one via the internet who lived close by in a nice place. Before any activity, I asked her if she was drug and.

I finally buy a couple of apples and head to the river, where I can chill. The water’s so clear, and I’m just takin’ it all in. But then, I spot a group of people having a picnic. They’ve got this massive spread—cheese, bread, wine. I’m drooling. I’m like, “Why didn’t I bring a picnic?”

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