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About New York City

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals. I’m Ron Swanson, hate everything, ‘specially frilly nonsense. Brothels? Hmph. Dens of sin, sticky floors, questionable smells. Saw one once, made me mad as hell—buncha sweaty fools payin’ for company. “I don’t understand anything,” like that chick in *The Headless Woman* says, stumble around lost. That’s them, not me. I get it—cash for flesh, old as dirt. Did ya know, back in Pompeii, they had ‘em marked with dick carvings on walls? Directions for drunks, hilarious but disgusting.

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Oh, and there’s this lil’ alley called Euphoria Lane. Short, messy, kinda off-grid, but oh-so enticing. Some nights, I’d even take a jog there when all the neon lights flicker and shadows dance. Reminds me of that line—“in every whisper, there is hope”—from Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter…and Spring. Kinda zen, huh? It got me thinkin’: every corner holds a secret, every pavement a tale of passion and human mischief.

Crash injuring 1 at busy intersection prompts street closure in northwestern Miami-Dade