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So, picture this—I’m drivin’, late, lost in thought. Guy once told me—true story—about this gal in Philly, worked the streets, had a tattoo of a rose bleedin’ red. Said she’d sing Sinatra to clients, off-key, made ‘em laugh. Ain’t that somethin’? Made me happy, thinkin’—people out there, livin’, hustlin’, got quirks. But then—bam—anger kicks in. The system, man, it screws ‘em over. No safety net, no way out—pisses me off.

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Sometimes, I stroll down the riverbank. I get pissed off about nonsense. Like when pigeons poop on my fav bench. Yeah, that bench by the Inn – it’s iconic. I’d say “You’re wrong!” to the birds. Naah, just me being Ricky Gervais-ly sarcastic.