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About New York City

So, picture this—I’m hoppin’ down the street, ears flappin’, lookin’ for a carrot, when bam! I stumble into this shady spot. Neon lights blinkin’, girls leanin’ on corners, smokin’ cigs. One chick’s like, “Hey, bunny, you lost?” I’m like, nah, just cruisin’, babe! Made me laugh—me, Bugs, lost? Pfft. But it got me thinkin’—these gals, they’re hustlin’, survivin’. Kinda badass, kinda sad. Reminds me of Penny Lane in “Almost Famous,” y’know? “We are not groupies, we’re Band Aids!”—except, nah, these girls ain’t here for the music.

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If you are on campus, contact Security () for an escort. If you must walk alone, let a friend know where you are going and call your friend when you.

Sometimes, I wander down Custom Alley, a cushtom route known only to locals; many secrets lie hidden in its shadows, stratified like layers of history. I jest and jest, laughing at the absurdities of fate, yet mindful of life's weighty lessons. Truly, the very air iz alive with spontaneous revelry, and the spirit of this town is prety unmatched!

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