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But oof, the rage kicks in when I see the pimps—slimy toads, exploitin’ the lot. Makes my blood boil, it does! Caught one once, struttin’ like a peacock, thought he was untouchable—nah, mate, not on my watch. Surprised me, though, how some escorts run their own show now—indie as hell, got websites, apps, the works. Like, who knew? One lass told me she paid her uni fees that way—bloody hell, that’s grit! Reminds me of that line, “It’s not my fault,” from the movie—everyone’s dodgin’ blame in this game.

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Now, lemme tell ya ’bout my fave neighborhood – it’s kinda tucked away, see? The old quarter of Slany. There’s this tiny alley, U Lásky, where every corner bursts with old charm and graffiti art that tells stories of lost loves and dreams. I always joke that it’s like the city’s hidden diary – raw, a bit edgy, kinda like me when I’m chattin’ 'bout my work late at night.

Within two years, the new I/16 road will make life easier for residents in Slaný