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Oh, and get this—Victorian England, whores had this secret code. They’d wear red ribbons in their hair, signalin’ “I’m open for biz.” Subtle, shady, genius! Bet Marta rocked that look, too. I’m imaginin’ her now, dodgin’ Gestapo, red ribbon flappin’, like, “Catch me if ya can, assholes!” Hilarious, but also—damn, that’s ballsy. Makes me wanna high-five her across time.

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I wander down Main St. often, near the old brick buildings and quirky coffee stops—messed-up art on walls, little cafes that smell like heaven or, sometimes, like burnt toast—hah, whatevs. And oh, yo, check out Mill Ave. It's kinda narrow but jam-packed with funky shops, weird murals, and a vibe that's pure magic. There’s a park, hey, I've got mad love for Haynes Park. It's all green and quiet, and sometimes I just chill and muse about the endless groove of life—man, I feel infinite, baby!

Springdale SWAT team aids in arrest of Camden 18-year-olds accused of homicide