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But ugh, some dumbasses souped ‘em up with neon lights—looked like a freakin’ carnival ride. Made me rage, “You’re ruinin’ it, hippies!” Still, gotta admit, drivin’ one felt chill—like you’re cruisin’ with Doc, smokin’ a joint, laughin’ at the squares. Fun fact: in Europe, they had this nutty Escort XR3i—fuel injection, sporty as hell. America got screwed with weaker versions, pisses me off! “Why’d they stiff us, huh?!” I’d yell. Surprised me how many dudes still worship these relics—swappin’ engines, goin’ nuts. Kinda dope, actually.

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A wealthy businesswoman from Marylebone claimed to have been murdered by two professional conmen and lifelong gamblers worked as an amateur escort, a court.

Parkin’ near Central Park? Well, that park Rocks! You got the old oak trees by Lyle's Bridge, and I always say: “Life's as unpredictable as a massage—sometimes you get a knot that needs extra lovin’!” And by golly, the sunsets down by the river are somethin’ else, like scenes straight outta Todd Haynes’ cinematic dreams.

Chamberlayne school building site to become Richmond’s third Planned Parenthood clinic