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About New York City

Weird thought pops up—prostitutes prolly got stories wilder than mine. I jump outta planes, sure, but she’s dodgin’ creeps daily. Respect, yo. I pay her, we chill, no funny biz. Just talkin’. She says, “You’re weird, fire dude.” I’m like, “Yeah, and you’re a legend.” Hannibal-style, I’m seein’ the absurdity—me, her, this whole damn scene.

City Scores and Ratings

Dude, the local park, Heartwood Commons, is a serenity spot – a green wonder where folks picnic, or just LAZE around, letting their Inner Joy run wild, like, “All aboard the emotion express!” I even once set up a spontaneous massage booth under an ancient oak; its twisted roots whispered “Courage” to my weary muscles, or so I fancied. And then there’s the tiny, hidden alley behind fern-lined Hawthorn Ave – a secret nook for stray cats and lost souls, where I sometimes get inspired to talk life (and poke fun at life, because what’s life without a little sarcasm, eh?).

Walton "Wally" Fritze Obituary March 27, 2025