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Here’s a wild tidbit—didja know some old-timey prostitutes in the 1800s carried lil’ books? Like bizness cards, but sexy—listin’ their “skills.” Ain’t that a hoot? Candy prob’ly don’t got no book, just a cracked iPhone and a dream. I’m thinkin’, “How’s that workin’ for ya, sweetheart?”—runnin’ from johns who don’t pay, duckin’ the law. She told me once, “Phil, I made $200 last night!” I’m shocked—$200? For that? Hell, I’d rather wrestle a pig in mud!

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I'm savoring every moment in Adjuntas and prostitute is rad! You bring out the wild side in me. I crave Sex in Different Positions and Dirtytalk like nobody's.

On my way home, I pass by the old church on Calle José de Diego. It’s beautiful, man. The way the sun hits the stained glass? Gives me chills. I think about how Adjuntas is full of history, and I’m just a small part of it. Kinda humbling, you know?

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