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About New York City

Little fact—oldest gig ever, right? Ancient Rome had ‘em, called ‘em “lupae”—she-wolves, howlin’ for coin! Wild, huh? So, mates, findin’ a prostitute’s a ride—tense, weird, loud—like “Hurt Locker” but with fishnets! I’m ready! Stay sharp, laugh lots, don’t blow up—figuratively, ya goofballs! Argh!

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Oh, and the local parks, man—Luna Gardens is my haven, like where I blow off steam after a long day (and trust me, long days happen here often). You can sit there, watch the stars swirl, and feel that cosmic oneness. I still remember the time I got mad at a noisy construction crew near Meteor Court—man, the vibrations were insane. I almost lost my chill vibe there, but then, life’s too short, right? Even when stuff gets loco, it's like—no worries, we are stardust after all.

Obituary for Arthur B. DeMasso