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About Gothenburg

I’d be strollin, hair all poofed up, mutterin, “Hmm… he’s not my lover,” like in the movie, but swap “lover” for “pimp”—ha! Imagine me sidesteppin some sleazy dude, “Oh no ya don’t, buster!” Prolly get all weepy too, thinkin bout how she’s got no Mr. Chow to sweep her off her feet. That movie’s all bout what ain’t said, right? But here, it’s loud—catcalls, hagglin over prices, no mystery, just cold hard cash.

So you want to book a sex worker?

So, I finish up at the site, and I’m driving down to the pub on Östra Storgatan. The rain’s finally letting up, and I’m feeling a bit better. I pull into the parking lot, and guess what? I see that same dude from earlier, the one who parked on the sidewalk. He’s standing there, looking all smug. I just shake my head and laugh.

CANADIAN PONY WINS US NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP