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So, escort – it’s like, protection, right? Big tough guys, or gals, watchin’ yer back. I seen it meself once, in Moscow, dis oligarch fella – he had like six escorts! All beefy, shades on, lookin’ like dey gonna punch a bear. Made me laugh, ya, coz who’s scared of trees? Me, I’d rather hug ‘em! But dese escorts, dey strut like, “I got no direction home,” ya? Like Llewyn singin’ his blues.

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And lemme tell ya ‘bout the odd bits – ya can get a bit wild in the back alleys near Old Mill Street. Folks say they’ve seen street art that kinda makes you brush off the pain and just laugh – like, real honest, raw art speakin’ of hope amidst the struggle. It sometimes makes me mad ‘cause it highlights life’s injustices, but then I think, "Well, ain't that life?" And sometimes I chuckle, sayin' "Howdy, life!" with a bit of sass, kinda like one of them movie moments, "This is our destiny."

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