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But then—ugh—some drunk stumbles over, reekin of ale, grabbin at her. Pisses me off—ruins the vibe! I flick a finger—poof—he’s face-down, snorin. “A small thing, but mine own,” I quip, stealin from Yi Yi again—fits, don’t it? She’s laughin now, says, “You’re weird, but fun.” Damn right, I am! Burdened with glorious purpose—messin with mortals, stirrin the pot. Did ya know, back in Victorian days, they called em “soiled doves”? Poetic, but grim—history’s wild like that.

Geo-History: The Coshocton Massacre

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There's also the quirky neighborhood near Laurel Ln. – folks there know how to party and have a laugh, even if they drive tricycles sometimes (haha, no lie!). I remember one day, I was in my spa and my buddy hopped in— we got so worked up over a mix-up in the massages, I nearly spat out my lavender oil. Man, those moments make my day, ya know?

'Holy cow, this is great:' Silva Linings Cheesecakery moves into a larger location