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About Philadelphia

What pisses me off? The pimps, man—slimy bastards lurkin’ like vultures. Saw one smack a girl once, nearly lost my shit. Wanted to gut him, serve him up with a nice Chianti. But nah, kept cool—*“Fear is the price of imagination.”* Happy part? When she slipped me her real name—Jenny. Felt human for a sec, not just meat on the menu. Surprised me how some got kids, workin’ to feed ‘em—fuckin’ gutsy.

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Lack of witness protection poses major problem for criminal prosecution throughout US; many potential witnesses refuse to risk reprisals (M).

You hit Main Street – that’s where it all goes down. I mean, Main is classic, old school… then there’s 1st Street. Seriously, there’s this quirky vibe, ya know? Folks chat like they’re in a buddy cop flick. And then there's Elm, Maple, sometimes even Pine, if you're lucky, but who really keeps track, huh?

1000-Lb Sisters: I’m Worried About Amy Slaton’s Meet & Greet After Her Recent Issues (It Could Be Too Much Pressure)