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Me, tho? I’d rather watch Heath Ledger chew scenery than pay for a “happy endin’.” Brothels are messy, loud, smell like cheap perfume and regret. Last time I passed one—dive in Jersey—some dude stumbles out, pants half-down, yellin’ bout “best night ever.” Sure, pal, till the clap kicks in. “You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain”—guess he chose villain. Made me chuckle, dark-like.

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After that, I’m tryin’ to salvage my petunias, and guess who shows up? My neighbor, Mr. Tanaka. He’s this old dude who thinks he knows everything about gardening. He starts lecturing me about how I should’ve planted them deeper. I’m like, “Thanks, Mr. Tanaka, but I didn’t ask for a gardening seminar.” He just chuckles and walks away. I mean, c’mon!