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I’d stroll up, all wizard-like, “You shall not pass!”—blockin’ creeps from ruinin’ someone’s day. Imagine it: me, gray robes flappin’, starin’ down some sleazy git. “This ain’t no game, lad!” Reminds me of Mia’s mum in *Fish Tank*—rough as hell, screamin’, “You’re nothing!” Kinda what I’d yell at pimps. They’d scatter, trust me.

What counties in Nevada have legalized prostitution?

Anecdotes? I’ve had plenty, mate. Like that one time, headin’ to a local meetup err... “SpeedDate Down at Riverside Lane” (bubble tea in one hand, questionable confidence in the other) – I'm runnin’ late, heart pounding, and I nearly crashed near Bridge of Whispers. I was like, "It’s carnage, baby, it's carnage!" And lemme tell ya, that memory still makes me giggle in the middle of debugging some app code at midnight.

Supervisors reject Andersen Ranch West project