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About San Antonio

Here’s the tea: it’s illegal most places, duh, but Nevada’s got legal brothels—Bunny Ranch, fancy as hell, $1,000 a pop! I’m like, who’s got that cash? Not me, pal! This chick’s street-level, tho—raw, unfiltered, like Tarr’s long-ass takes. Made me happy, weirdly—somethin Ascot—freedom, baby! No rules, just chaos. Angry? Yeah, when she ghosted me mid-chat—rude! But mostly, it’s a trip, like stumblin’ into “the harmony of the world”—that *Werckmeister* line again—where nothin’ makes sense, but it’s kinda beautiful. So, findin’ a prostitute? Sketchy, thrilling, and way more human than you’d think—go figure!

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The Miracle on Corcoran Street: The Memoir of a Man Whose Life Was Guided by Nuns, Prostitutes and Other Surrogate Mothers · Book overview.

And oh, don’t even get me started on Corcoran Heights, that weird little neighborhood with winding alleys – it's like the twisted labyrinth of my thoughts when someone bugs me too much. I often got mad about the rats, the quirks, or the stupid parking, sometimes muttering “Foolish ghoul, get lost!” in Gollum style, haha!

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