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About New York City

Last week, right, I’m in a tavern, tankard in hand, scopin’ the room. This bird—red lips, skirts hiked up—winks at me. I’m thinkin’, “Tyrion, you clever bastard, she’s yours.” But nah, she’s got a pimp, uglier than Gregor Clegane, breath like a latrine. Pissed me off—why’s everythin’ gotta be so complicated? “Be quiet and do what I say,” she whispers, like I’m some green boy. Cheeky cow! I’m the Imp, I know tricks she ain’t dreamed of. Paid her double just to shut her gob and get on with it. Felt good, though—coin well spent.

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Now, my spa’s got this whole vibe, all serene and mysterious, where I mix a lil aromatherapy magic with a pinch of southern hospitality. Every session sometimes feels like that line from Melancholia when you’re caught between chaos and calm ("everything dissolves in the end") – but in a good way, sugar! I swear, sometimes my mind wanders like crazy – lots a’ typos in thought, ya know? Like, oh man, I can’t even… re-re-repeat myself, but that’s life in Skokie.

Skokie officials provide update on ‘significant' water main break