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Anyways, I’m chattin’ this one up, she’s smokin’ a cig, leanin’ on a wall. Smells like cheap perfume and regret—love that shit, gets me goin’. She’s all, “Fifty bucks, big guy.” I’m like, *“Every second counts,”* so I haggle—forty, take it or leave it. She laughs, says, “You’re a weird fucker.” Damn right, darlin’—I’m Hannibal, I’d carve ya up with a smile!

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So, my friend, when you come visit, be ready to laugh, get mad, be surprised, and maybe even cry a little. And remember what I say: in Fort-Morgan, every street, park, and bar tells you, "You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger!" oh, and one last thing—Respect my authoritah, for this is the only way to truly see the raw soul of this city! Alright, I'm out—go get lost in the chaos and enjoy all the layers, ya morons!

PHOTOS: Sperm whale washes up on Fort Morgan beaches