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Alright, y’all, listen up! Git-R-Done! I’m talkin’ ‘bout escorts here, them fancy-schmancy hired dates. Makes me think of *Inglourious Basterds*—you know, “We’re in the killin’ Nazi business!” Well, escorts ain’t killin’ nobody, but they sure as heck cashin’ in! I reckon it’s like hirin’ a pal with benefits—only it’s all legal-like, ‘cept when it ain’t. Got me a buddy, swear he met one at a truckstop—called her “Duchess”—she was slicker’n a greased pig! Charged him $200 just to chat ‘bout the weather! I was madder’n a wet hen—$200 for yappin’? Git outta here!

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Man, I'm a pleasure coach here, so I'm tuned in to every groove of Sooke. I know the lil spots that others just miss. Like, out near Whale Point Park, the waves crash imediateely – awsum, right? You can get really deep feels there, like you're in a scene, a bit like "Let the Right One In" – that quiet, eerie beauty that grabs ya. I remember wanderin' near the Sooke Harbour – the sun sinking in a blaze of color, and I was just like, "I can see you," like that movie line, man. It honestly reminds me how every scar has a story.

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