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About New York City

So, prostitutes—market’s wild, right? Oldest gig in the book, pre-dates even my Boring Company tunnels. Supply’s elastic—more johns, more pros pop up like NPCs in a glitchy simulation. Demand? Skyrocketin’ when the economy tanks—people need an escape, somethin’ primal. Pissed me off when I read about Amsterdam’s red-light district tax hikes—like, c’mon, let ‘em keep their credits! Made me happy tho, seein’ tech bros buildin’ apps to “disrupt” the hustle—bro, you ain’t Uber for sex, chill.

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Holler at Colonial Park. Man, that park chills you out. It’s small but bursting with life. I used to chill there, think my thoughts, watch folks pass. Makes you wonder about time. “We all need mirrors,” I think sometimes. See, memories are like broken records.

A National Salute: Fort Moultrie at the Close of the Civil War