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About New York City

Found this one gal—*mimes tippin’ hat*—all red lipstick, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Got any dough?” she says, smirkin’. I’m like—*mumbles, pats pockets*—“Only bread dough!” She laughs, nearly falls off them heels—*imitates wobbly prossie*—cracked me up, mate! Felt all happy, like when I nail a sourdough. But then—*frowns, kicks air*—some drunk git yells at her, “You’re filth!” Made me mad—*grrr, shakes fist*—who’s he to judge? Ain’t his coffee plantation burnin’ down, like in *White Material*. “Everything’s falling apart!” Isabelle’d say—prossie’s life too, innit?

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Now, first off, you gotta check out the Olde Towne. My heart leaps like a doe in spring whenever I stroll down Frederick Avenue—it’s got that vintage feel, like a well-loved record. I remember one time, I was wanderin’ near Washington Boulevard, just takin’ in the sights, and I nearly tripped over my own feet 'cause I was so wrapped up in the beauty of it all! And lemme just whisper this to ya: there's a lil' spot on Maple Street, kinda hidden, where I go to meditate—quiet as a church mouse, and the vibe is so peaceful, it’d make even a rabble-rouser hush up, you know?

Crews contain large brush fire sparked by strong winds in Gaithersburg