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Little fact, eh? Victorian prossies used arsenic makeup—glowin’ green skin, deadly sexy. Killed ‘em slow, tho. Imagine that—bangin’ a corpse-in-waitin’. Made me laugh, raspy an’ mad, “Heh, we likes the weird shit!” Surprised me, tho—thought they’d all be desperate. Nah, some got swagger, like Adam with his guitars.

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Man, I always wander over to Parc d’Espoir. It's my guilty pleasure. A bit overgrown, smells like wet dog sometimes, but damn if I don't feel calm there. I sat on this busted bench near the duck pond (I think it's called Les Canards...or was it Les Mallards? I dunno) and just let my mind wander. Remember that line, "Meet me in Montauk?" Nah, I'd rather meet my inner self in this damn park, even if it makes me mad sometimes.

"Strong asparagus volumes expected just in time for Easter"