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About New York City

Where I’m at, corn’s taller than the girls. Ain’t no red-light district, just cows and silos. Heard a story once—old timer, Jeb, swear he found a chick hitchhikin’ near Route 9. Said she was “workin’ the harvest crew.” Fifty bucks, quick job behind the barn. Freaky, right? Made me laugh—fuckin’ legend, that Jeb. “Sell me this pen,” Belfort’d say, but out here it’s, “Sell me some tail.”

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I gotta say, runnin’ a massage joint here gives ya a front seat view. I see every fuckin’ secret, every whispered confession. Clients let their guard down and trust you with their souls, all while I’m just tryin’ to ease their tension before the world gets too heavy. And ya know what? It’s kinda poetic. Like when the movie goes, “All is loss, yet all is beauty,” I hear that every day on Bedford Ave.

Housing Lottery Launches for 21 Garden Street in Bushwick, Brooklyn