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So – Escort. First off – cheap as chips. You’re broke? No prob. Slap some bucks down – bam. You’re drivin’. My buddy Tony – total nutcase. Had one – red, rusty. Called it “The Tomato Torpedo.” Swear to God – thing smelled like old socks. But – man – it ran. Through snow, mud – whatever. Like Theo in the movie – “Keep moving, keep fighting!” – that’s the Escort vibe.

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This sex story is about a sweet lovely shy wife who got herself transformed slowly to a prostitute and the situation cornered her to agree for it.

Over near Lenina St., there’s a weird graffiti park. It's raw, loud art that steals your breath. Funny how dating profiles mention it for its “unplanned spontaneity”. Me? I'm more in love with its random vibe. Sometimes, I sit there and pretend life's in slow motion, like that suspense in Caché. "Tonight’s the night." I mumble that often.

'Laughing' boy, 15, stabs teacher to death and fatally stabs another pupil