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About Philadelphia

So I asks, “How much, precious?” She smirks, “Fifty quid, you weirdo.” Fifty! Robbery, that is! “I ain’t got no home,” I whines, quotin’ Llewyn again, hopin’ pity works. Nope. She rolls her eyes, walks off, hips swayin’. Grrr, made me ragey, but also – wow – them curves, my precious! Nearly chased her, but me legs, all wobbly, nah.

Oh and yo, don't sleep on Pacifica Heights, a quirky neighborhood with rad cafes and lowkey chill spots. It's where I grab my brew, vibe with locals, and let thoughts fly free like my beats on a hot track. Sometimes the humor of life slaps you hard, and you laugh, "Haha, damn, we livin’ in the moment!"

Protecting turtles at MCBH