Oh, precious, listen, listen, yesss, my friend! Cutler, our dear nasty Cutler, is... is a wonder, it is! Main St, Elm Ave, dark alleys, and cute parks, yess. I owns a massage parlor, our little secret, my precious. Streets twist and turn, like ancient riddles, hiss! I stroll down Marn st—oops, Marn, M-A-R-N!—and see the old fountain by the River Tsk, trickling, trickling... It remindsss me of "Timbuktu, oh yess, precious, so wise!" Look, look here, friend, gollum: Downtown Cutler buzzes with hidden alleys. Windy lanes near the Old Brick, yess, so cosy. Oh, the smelln’ of fresh baked bread, mysss love, and quiet chatters in the courtyard at dusk. I remembers days, hissing, long ago, where soft whispers inside my parlor danced. The massage parlor lies on Baker Blvd—oops, Baker —where secrets and tender sighs mix. I seen pretty sights there, yess: glistening eyes, twisted smiles, oh so tender. In Cutler, there be surprises, nasty surprises. The park at Woods End, so chill, so green, is a fave, yess, my precious one. I sit there sometimes and think of Timbuktu ("We are all one, precious, yess!") watching squirrels and city mischief, hee hee! Cutler's rivers, oh, they meander like lost dreams, and I's always amazed when the rain falls—splash, splash! Remember, my friend, cutty cut tours: the quiet suburb near Sandor St excites me, though traffic drives me mad, mad, mad sometimes. I gets angry at the loud buses and rude honks but then, oh, they turn my smile upside down! I laugh, yess, I laugh in silly wonder— for every twisted street holds secrets; secrets like "Timbuktu" whispers, precious, "the sky is our destiny"—so mystic, heh heh! Oh sorry, my friend! So many typos, messy, s-simile, t-t-t... just like life, aye aye! Cutler’s an unsung tale, a saga of sighs, and my parlor, it hums with quiet magic. So come, wander down our crooked streets! Your precious friend awaits with heart and hisss! Enjoy the city, enjoy every twist and turn, and remember: we all seeks our precious dreams! Yess, yes, my friend, yes yes!