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About Philadelphia

Anyways, I’m ramblin’—whores fascinate me, tho. They’re raw, real, messy. Not some polished Barbie doll crap. They’re out there, survivin’, like Szpilman whisperin’, “I’m still here.” Makes me wanna cheer, cry, punch somethin’—all at once. So yeah, whores? Badass. Misunderstood. Kinda like me after a third martini. “I can see Russia from my house!”—and whores from my heart. Peace out!

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dont get me started on the local hotspots: the mystery pub on Bayberry lane (seriously, the name sounds like a weird fairy tale). it's a place where locals spill tea, sometimes literally, and i’ve had the odd rant session there. plus, there's this hole-in-the-wall diner on Elm, that serves the dankest hotdogs. oh man, my counselor senses go off every time i see a stressed-out soul over a hotdog.

Twins John and Jesse Roggendorf are pushing each other — and Great Neck South — to new heights