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About Philadelphia

Ruh-roh! Gets dicey tho. Pimps lurk, watchin’, controllin’. Hate that crap – makes me growl! “Act of Killing” vibes – power trippin’. Exaggeratin’ here, but feels like a jungle. Ya might score, might get robbed. Roll the dice, pal! Me? I’d rather munch Scooby Snacks. Findin’ a prostitue – oops, prostitute – wild ride. Stay safe, ya crazy human! “We’re artists of death,” movie brags. These streets? Artists of hustle, man!

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So, the downtown's a jumble of old and new. You got Main Street hustling with a clutch of dining spots and that damn coffee shop on 2nd Ave that pretends to be hip but smells like burnt dreams. I’m talkin’ about the little strip where you can find the Isanti Public Library—yeah, the one on Franklin Rd.—and a couple of crummy bars where folks try too hard to seem smart. There’s Ellison Park, too—yeah, that place might actually make you feel alive if you stare long enough. Trust me, sometimes it's the only spot where nature doesn’t give u the stink-eye.

In Memory of Larry Gehrke