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About Hastings

So, yeah, prostitutes – tricky bizness, eh? I’m sawin’ wood one day, thinkin’ – why’s this gig so messy? Like in *Great Beauty*, “I’m surrounded by ruins.” Cold truth, yeah? These girls, man, they’re hustlin’, fuckin’ tough life. Saw one near Red Square once – legs like birch, face all painted, but eyes? Dead. “What’s left but aesthetics?” Sorrentino nailed it. She’s sellin’ what she’s got, no shame, no choice maybe. Pissed me off – not her, the system. Fuckin’ grinds my gears, this world chews ‘em up.

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Then, I head over to the beach. Opotiki Beach, man! The waves were crashing, and the sun was shining. I’m thinking, “This is the life!” But then, outta nowhere, a seagull swoops down and steals my chips! Like, seriously? I’m just trying to enjoy my snack, and this feathered thief swoops in. I’m yelling, “Hey! Get your own food!” But it’s a seagull, so it just gives me that look. You know the one.

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