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So, picture this—I’m cruisin’, *Inherent Vice* style, fog rollin’ in, lookin’ for a gal. “What’s the deal, baby?” I’d say, tryna sound cool. She’d probly laugh—Kermit ain’t exactly a stud. Maybe she’d quote Doc: “This is some heavy shit!” and I’d croak, “Yeah, far out!” Total trip, man. Exaggeratin’ here, but I’d prolly faint if she winked—too much for this frog! You ever tried it? Spill the beans, pal—don’t leave me hangin’! Hi-ho!

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It wasn’t all sunshine; some days, the cranky old timer at the corner store makes me want to drop my voice. But hey, such flavors make Morton, us, what it is—a mix of mad, tender, and wild vibes all in one. And me, being in the mssage parlor biz, I get to watch all these odd moments. Every touch, every sigh, they’re confessions of the soul. It's intimate, kinda raw, and reminds me that each person's story is like a mini-movie.

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