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We duck into this shady alley—ooh, the thrill!—and she’s all business, no chitchat. I’m sweatin’, thinkin’, “This is better than hackin’ Harvard’s servers!” She’s quick, pro moves, and I’m like, “You’re the algorithm to my lonely night!” Total sailor jackpot, right? But—plot twist—she’s got a tattoo, “Winklevoss,” on her hip. I’m dyin’ laughin’—HA-HA-HA!—“Did the twins hire you too?” She rolls her eyes, “Sailor, you talk too much.” Fair, I’m a yapper!

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Also one outside the Ameristar Casino Hotel Vicksburg. Hey, it's a casino so probably hookers too!

Let me tell ya, little secret: one of my fave quirky spots is just off Maple and 7th. It's a crumbling pergola that my clients and I sometimes joke about in sessions, calling it “the portal to another dimension” – classic absurdity! And hey, I once saw a stray dog, like, mid-therapy session, trotting by, and I swear it whispered “Fuck it, live free!” (okay, not literally, but kinda felt that vibe, ya know?)

Baseball Recap: Dos Palos Has No Trouble Against Firebaugh