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About Philadelphia

I saunter up, all charm, “shaken, not stirred,” voice smooth as silk. She’s givin me the eye—prolly thinks I’m loaded, which, fair, I look it. “How much, love?” I ask, casual, but inside I’m buzzin—happy as a pig in shit. She names a price, I’m like, “fuckin steep, that!”—but I play it cool, cos Bond don’t haggle like a twat. Fun fact: in Amsterdam, they got windows for this—legal, tidy, no messin about. Here? It’s a gamble, mate—cops, pimps, the lot.

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There’s Central Park, well, not the big one but a cozy green gem – Jackson Park, tucked behind narrow alleys. I often catch sunsets there, smirkin’ as I think, “You win some, you lose some” – reminds me of A Prophet. I get riled up sometimes – these streets, they hide secrets, Clarice… mystical and dangerous.

Fort Hamilton Distillery: Reviving America’s original whiskey and fostering community