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Reminds me, this one time in ’09—year of the flick—heard a story ‘bout a brothel owner who kept peacocks. Freakin’ peacocks! Struttin’ around like they owned the place. Made me happy for a sec—birds got more dignity than the clients. “No one listens to me!”—Larry’d say that, starin’ at a peacock while some gal counts his cash. Exaggeratin’ here, but I’d burn the place down before payin’. Little known fact: old-timey brothels had secret tunnels—escape routes for cheatin’ husbands. Sneaky bastards.

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Massachusetts Avenue, for example, which today is a pretty hip and thriving part of town, was basically a burned-out brothel in the '60s and '.

Man, neighborhoods here are all sorts. Check out The Loft District, man – artsy, weird, wild, and cute. I had a crazy date there, oh my gosh, u wouldn’t believe it – conversation like a shooting star, swift and glowing, man! I once got so ticked off! The other day, the bus was late near Pettyton, got me like, full mad, ya know? But then, calm like "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly" – “I must say, that was a true form of beauty.” Lol, what a paradox, huh?

County jail inmate accused of stealing vehicle in Whitestown