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About New York City

So, sex escort gig—payin for a quick tumble, eh? Makes me mad, it does! All sneaky-like, folk whisperin bout it in dark alleys. Heard tell of this one lass in Amsterdam—true story, swear it—worked the windows, made bank, but cried herself to sleep. Nobody talks that bit, do they? All “oooh, sexy fun,” but nah, it’s grim, precious. We hates it!

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The river? Yes, the little creek that runs past the old mills—it’s a vibe, meandering like it’s on a slow-motion chase scene from "The Act of Killing." Sometimes I nap by there on a sunny day, mumblin’ and flapping my arms like a dorky Mr. Bean, lost in thought.

‘Music on the Square’ returns to Tennessee’s oldest town