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About New York City

But—ugh—then there’s the pricks who run ‘em. Pimp bastards, all greasy and grabby. One tried chargin’ me double ‘cause I’m “Tyrion fuckin’ Lannister.” Told him, “I drink, I don’t get fleeced!” Nearly took me dagger to his balls—shoulda, the twat. Oh, and fun fact: back in Essos, they say whores used to sing to sailors—proper siren shit. Dunno if it’s true, but Lysa hummin’ while she worked? Closest I’ll get to a mermaid, ha!

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I keep bumpin’ into weird little spots, like that quirky mural on Reading Road – art with attitude, ya know? I'm always saying, “Heh, that one reminds me of Timbuktu – so surreal, so outta this world!” And, oh man, how could I forget that one time I got mad at the insane heat on Vine Street? Hot! Hot! But truly, Cincinnati has this gritty soul that even makes me tear up sometimes.

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