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About New York City

So, I’m down the docks, yeah, salty air hittin me lungs, thinkin – where’s she at? Prossies round here, they’re ghosts, mate. Slip through yer fingers like wet fish. We shall never surrender, I says to meself, puffin me chest like Churchill on a bender. Found one once, right, near the old pier – Ruby, they called her. Cheeky lass, red lips, eyes sharp as a gutting knife. Little known fact – she’d hum sea shanties while workin, swear down! Made me laugh, that did – a prossie with a tune? Fancied meself Theo Faron for a sec, savin the world one shag at a time.

Far from being morbid, the Cross Bones Graveyard is a charming little memorial.

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Then there’s the blazin’ Riverside Park. Ah man, view's insane! The river curls on like a serpent. I once held a late-night heart-to-heart by the edge at dusk. The vibe was cinematic, evocative of that fabled scene – “This is the Zodiac.” Seriously eerie, yet beautiful… kinda freaky.

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