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Sometimes I tink, what if I was a john, ya? I’d prolly suck at it—too loud, too Austrian, ha! “Get to da chopper!” I’d yell, and dey’d be like, “Arnold, chill, we’re in a motel!” Funny as hell, picturin’ dat. But real talk, I respect ‘em, dey grind harder den most. Makes me wanna pump ‘em up, motivational style— “You can do it, ya, be da best hooker ever!”

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I must confess these streets remind me of a scene from that movie – where warriors silently tread, hearts bursting with silent might. Prosek is much the same: a city with hidden strength, mystic corners, and tales spun with everyday magic. Sometimes it blows my mind – how can such a modest place pack so many secrets?

Trespassers: James Prosek and the Texas Prairie