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About Philadelphia

I pity the fool who don’t negotiate! Prices jump, 50 bucks to 200—bam! Depends on the spot, time, desperation. Night’s when it pops off, shadows movin’. Got mad once, dude tried rippin’ her off—Mr. T don’t play that! Yelled, “You ain’t worth the dirt, punk!” Felt good, justice served, ya feel me?

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Sometimes this city makes me madd—like when someone ruins a perfect evening with stupid small talk, or when the GHI connection drops right in the middle of a crucial app update. Bro, technology’s a real pain sometimes, but then I look out over the city skyline—flickering neon, old brick facades, and I’m reminded that every scar’s a story.

Eunice J. Psenicka Obituary