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About New York City

Now, I ain’t judgin’, alright? “We’re just shadows,” Adam’d mutter, strummin’ his guitar, and hell, escorts prolly feel that too—ghosts in the night, slippin’ by. Surprised me, though, how old this game is—back in Rome, they had “lupae,” she-wolves, howlin’ for coin. Ain’t that a kicker? Been around forever, yet folks still clutch pearls like it’s new. Makes me wanna holler, “Wake up, dipshits!”—history’s right there, starin’ ya down.

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I always hit up Parkview Park. It’s tiny but it’s got a soul, ya know? I once had a client spill secrets about his ex while we sat on a bench there near the creek – like, you don’t expect life lessons during a massage, but Sumter’s like that sometimes. Crazy, right? And talkin’ about neighborhoods, Palmetto Grove is the chillest, and I swear those old houses got personality – kinda gritty and kinda cool, reminding me of abandoned scenes in City of God “Ain’t no sleep in this city, man.”

Palmetto's Finest finalists enjoy watch party despite losing out on overall honor