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Found one near Vespucci Beach—tattooed, smokin’ hot, but glitchy. Kept callin’ me “Leonard”—wtf? Like “Memento,” she’s stuck in a loop. “I’ve seen you before,” she says. I’m like, “Bitch, I’m Vader!” Laughed my ass off—then she clipped into a wall. Typical GTA jank. Still, got me thinkin’—is she real? Am I real? “Remember Sammy Jankis,” my brain screams. Nolan’s fuckin’ with me even here.

Why D.C. sex workers are flocking to Logan Circle: 7 On Your Side investigates

These motels are cheap and they don't care about who rents a room. Homeless people like them as its close to the places they panhandle and very close to the.

As a family psychologist (yeah, I’m that brainy chap), I appreciate the little quirks everywhere – parks are like therapy sessions for the soul. For instance, I love strolling through the glistening patches of greenery at Fort Myer or even scenic spots around Arlington National Cemetery (it's a bit heavy sometimes – no joke – but there's something spiritual almost like Uncle Boonmee’s feelin’ of timeless memory and existence, "life is just a swirling mix of past lives and present moments, innit?"). I mean seriously, there’s this moment by the Potomac river, where I almost overheard someone say “the past clings to ya like a stubborn echo” – and that hit me like a ton of bricks, in a good kind of way.

Blues musician, 77, reported missing from Arlington