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I liked Candy, tho—spunky, y’know? She’d quote movies too, once hit me with, “I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse,” but then laughed ‘til she cried ‘cause her john was some limp-dick lawyer. Surprised me how sharp she was—street smarts beat Harvard any day. Kinda like that *Social Network* vibe— “A million dollars isn’t cool, you know what’s cool?” Survival, bitches—that’s cool. She survived, mostly. ‘Til she didn’t. Pimp got her good one night—fuckin’ tragedy. Pissed me off so bad I tracked him down. Guess what? I ate his liver with fava beans—tasted like cheap whiskey and regret.

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I work as a family psychologist. I see peeps in homes near Elm St. too. Some folks live at the edge of Lycoming Ave, real tight-knit vibes. I’ve seen families blossom right in front of ya eyes. Ain’t that somethin'? I always say, “Git-R-Done!” like Larry the Cable Guy when folks make progress, even if it’s small steps.

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