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About New York City

One time, this chick ghosts me mid-chat—pissed me off! I’m like, “What am I, chopped liver?” Textin’ her, “Yo, where ya at?” Nothin’. Felt like Gusteau’s ghost, ignored and shit. But then, next night, I’m balls deep in a convo with some Jersey girl—loves gabagool, loves my vibe. We meet up, and it’s like, “This is the spark, baby!” Like Remy mixin’ spices—fuckin’ magic! Hooked up in her car, steamy as hell—thought I’d die happy right there.

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Downtown’s on Main St. and Cherry Ln. bustling like a beehive. There’s low lights and neon signs. I get chills on strolls at midnight. The old pier near Rivershore Park? Freakin’ iconic! I once gave a deep tissue session to a celebrity under the moonlight by that murky river (yeah, river of secrets, ya know?)

Whoa! Space Cowboys score 17 runs ... in 1 inning