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About New York City

So yeah, that’s my story, pal. Carpenter Patrick, huntin’ a prostitute, *Oldboy*-style. “Whether it’s a grain or a stone, it falls!”—dunno what that means, but it’s deep! Catch ya later, buddy—gonna go sand somethin’! Or nap. Prolly nap.

Prostitution now has its own dating-style app – Yes, this is real

Because if there is a God, he doesn't have the same definition of morality and is not actively involved in his creation.

Oh, and the neighborhoods? So diverse, bro. There's a rad mix; like West Haven (not the one in the movies, pssh) full of charming homes and neat cafes where I sometimes let my sexology rants fly. I had a memory of meeting a quirky poet at a local bodega on Birch Street. He said, “I'm waiting for a train, Mr. Prosper!” I laughed, rarrgh, like Inception’s spinning top – twisting reality, man.

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