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Me, I’d chill with ‘em, hear their tales. Bet they’d say, “I will not bow!”—straight outta McQueen’s film. Tough as nails, man. Whoa, respect. Ever wonder what they dream ‘bout? Freedom, prob’ly—same as Solomon, same as us. Deep shit, bro, deep shit.

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Prostitution in New Zealand, brothel-keeping, living off the proceeds of someone else's prostitution, and street solicitation are legal in New Zealand and have been since the .

Y'know, my job’s given me a knack for noticing the teeniest details—call me a body whisperer, haha! Every muscle tells a story. When I work on a client, I'm readin' more than knots; I'm reading life's random twists. "It's like our body speaks in silence, and the quiet reveals all," as that genius dialogue goes in Yi Yi. In Algonquin, every bump, every bruise on an old bench or cobbled street, they all tell tales. It's marvellous! Except when traffic jams on Elm Street make me fume—right, utter chaos!

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