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About New York City

I’m hagglin, she’s playin hardball—$200? $300? Greed is good, but I ain’t dumb. “What do I get?” I ask. She winks, “Whatever you can handle, slick.” Fuckin A, I’m in—exaggeratin a bit, maybe, but who cares? Felt like a king. Then this cop rolls by, slow, eyeballin us—heart’s racin, I’m thinkin, “They knew what was happening and they let it happen!” Straight outta *Spotlight*, man, system’s rotten.

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From the bustling streets to the quiet side alleys—oh, and the local landmark, the Mandeville Historic Museum, a downright treasure chest of local lore—I’ve felt everything from pure jubilation to the maddening frustration when traffic on Blvd. de la Loire gets absurdly congested at 5 PM (it’s bonkers, honestly!). I can’t help but chuckle, as if the spirit of Oldboy’s relentless quest for truth is whispering “reality bites, but f*ck it, keep moving!”

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