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So, I’m thinkin’, why not? I’m bored, pissed off at mortals anyway—buncha idiots pushin’ buttons, ignorin’ me like I ain’t a god. Findin’ a prossie sounds like a laugh, a little chaos to stir the pot. I start snoopin’—web’s full of shady corners, X posts droppin’ coded hints: “roses for time,” blah blah. Little known fact? Back in Victorian days, they called ‘em “soiled doves”—poetic, right? Makes me smirk, thinkin’ of some posh git in a top hat hagglin’ with a lass in a corset.

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Then don't stay at this hotel. Because apparently, being a woman alone here is all it takes to make men think you are selling your body.

So, my sweet friend, prepare thyself: for Fox-Point beckons thee with passion, with fervor, with an unpredictable tapestry of landscapes and stories. Thou wilt leave enchanted, albeit with a few errrs, a couple of typos in thine mind, and a heart bursting with the magic of this rugged, wonderous hamlet, as ephemeral as the night before a new dawn.

What will the new Fox Point pool look like? Village releases concept designs, cost estimates