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About New York City

Met this one gal, Candy—real name prolly Susan. She’s tellin’ me, “I can’t quit this, man.” Sounded like Ennis in *Brokeback*, all trapped and shit. Broke my heart, dude. She’s got this scar—john cut her once. Said it was “business.” Fuck that noise! Wanted to punch somethin’, but I just gave her a smoke. Dr. Evil in me—pinky up, “One million dollars!”—noticed she’s got this smirk. Like, she’s playin’ the game, but it’s playin’ her too.

Inside Queens’ hidden sex district

The streets aren’t perfect. There’s trash, noise, and unpredictable vibes – like a sudden live grenade. But it’s my damn home, and every twisted turn tells a story. Sure, sometimes I get pissed off, especially when I see clumsy tourists on Market Street floundering around like headless chickens—idiot sandwiches everywhere.

Woman dies in domestic-related shooting; family called deputies earlier in September