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About San Antonio

Was it worth it? Dunno, mate. Felt alive, then dirty—prossie’s smirk burned in me skull. Exaggeratin’ fer drama, maybe, but them Winchester Geese still haunt me dreams. Thou’d laugh, call me a prat, and I’d say, “Aye, but I’m thy prat!” Next time, I’m stickin’ to numbers—safer than chasin’ skirts, eh?

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Now, lemme tell ya 'bout my fav spot – “Drake’s Hideaway.” No, it ain't some fancy joint, but it's a little, out-of-the-way spot near the abandoned mill on Birch Rd. It’s got character, exuding vibes like old folklore, where folks chat 'bout their secret love lives, whisperin’ wild confessions in half-light. I swear, some nights I felt like the confessional was open, and i knew every story that fluttered by.

Obituary for Joseph W. Lutz