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So, prositution’s old as dirt, right? Fun fact: ancient Babylon had temple hookers—sacred sex, they called it. Wild, huh? Bet they lied too, “Oh yeah, gods love this.” Makes me wanna limp around with my cane, yellin at idiots who romanticize it. Ain’t no ballet like in the movie, no “soft hands caressin’ dreams.” It’s gritty, messy, loud—girls screamin at johns, johns screamin back. Watched this doc once, some prossie said she faked it 20 times a night. 20! I’d need vicodin just to fake a smile that much.

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But then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, seriously? I’m caught without an umbrella, and I’m sprinting down the street, trying to find shelter. I duck into this little shop on Rīgas iela, and it’s packed with all these cool souvenirs. I’m browsing, and I find this ridiculous magnet that says, “Saulkrasti: Where the sun shines and the seagulls steal your food.” I have to get it.

Three for the Weekend: Saulkrasti Jazz, Outdoor Singing, Sunrise Concert / Article