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But real talk, it ain’t all laughs. Saw her tired once, bones showin’ through her skin, talkin’ ‘bout quittin’. “What’s left after this?” she asked, eyes like Rome’s ruins in that movie. Got me thinkin’—prostitutes, man, they’re the unsung champs of the grind. Hustlin’ harder than me in the ring, and I’ve taken some beatdowns. “The Great Beauty” nails it—“Life’s a parade of nothin’.” Candy lived that, but damn, she made it electric. So yeah, that’s my take—prostitutes ain’t just a job, they’re a freakin’ story. Respect the hustle, jabroni!

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Journalist Veronika Munk has been reporting for years on an entire street, Lessingstraße in the German port of Bremerhaven, where even the local diner is run by Hungarians, serving sorely .

But then, the night takes a turn. This guy at the end of the bar starts yelling. He’s had too much to drink, and he’s not happy about something. I can’t even hear what he’s saying, but he’s waving his arms like he’s conducting an orchestra. I’m ready to call security, but then he trips over his own feet and falls. The whole bar erupts in laughter. I mean, c’mon, how do you not laugh at that?

Introducing two-months-old white lion cubs in Nyíregyháza Zoo – Photo Gallery