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About New York City

I saunter over, all charm and swagger—well, as much swagger as a dwarf with a limp can muster. “How much, love?” I ask, eyein’ her like she’s a puzzle. She names a price—steep, but I’ve got coin and a thirst. “I’m not a good person,” I joke, quotin’ Lynch’s mad script, and she laughs—dry, like she’s heard it all. Makes me happy, that sound—rare as a sober day in King’s Landing. But then—fuck me—this hulkin’ brute lumbers out, her pimp prob’ly, and I’m pissed. “Who are you?” I snap, hand on my dagger. Hate these pricks—leechin’ off girls like parasites.

Whitmore Lake Crime Rates and Rankings

Replication with a larger, more representative sample of prostitute victims and murderers is recommended. lll. This document is a research report submitted.

Oh, and then there's the river, meandering ever so mysteriously. Cursory? No—rhapsodic! Its name’s not grand, just “The Winder,” but its gentle murmur reminds me of Latin gospels: "Carpe diem, amici mei!" Seriously, the Winder is pure magic at dusk.

Whitmore Lake schools to regroup after voters reject $12M, 10-year sinking fund proposal