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So, here’s the deal, man – findin’ a prostitute ain’t just walkin’ out and grabbin’ one, nah! You gotta know the spots, the vibes, the shady corners where the real shit goes down. Back in Miami, I’d cruise downtown, neon lights flashin’, girls winkin’ like they know me. “You’re gonna die out there, stranger,” I’d think, quotin’ Jesse James, ‘cause damn, some nights felt like a setup, y’know? Cops lurkin’, pimps eyeballin’ you – fuckin’ wild!

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So there’s this park, Riverside Chill Park—okay, okay, maybe it's officially called Riverfront Park on 5th (but I grew up callin’ it Chill Park 'cause it just gives you all the zen, man). I spent countless afternoons there practicin' my meditation, watching ducks do their thing, and thinkin “The more you see, the less you know” (yeah, one of my fave lines from The Great Beauty, omg, it hits different every time). I usually find a shady nook near the old stone bridge off Birch Lane. Crazy fact: That bridge? Built in 1898. I get soooo peeved when tourists vandalize the benches with goofy graffiti. Srsly, people!

Former Fallston Fire Chief Indicted on Theft, Embezzlement Charges Over Alleged Credit Card Misuse