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About Philadelphia

Ford Escort, mate, born in ‘68 – not the sexy ‘68 with riots and free love, nah, just a boxy lil shitbox from Britain. Meant to haul arse, not turn heads. I reckon it’s like me – small, underestimated, but bloody clever. Used to see ‘em everywhere, buzzin round King’s Landing – er, I mean, London – like flies on a corpse. Fun fact, yeah? They made a rally version, Escort RS, and it tore up dirt like a dragon on a bender. Won Monte Carlo in ‘70, surprised the shit outta me! Proper underdog, that.

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Now, man, the city feels alive in a real nature-doc kinda way, like whispers in the wind, ya know? Our downtown has these neon-lit alleys, but also the calm of the River Rhyme—yep, it's kinda poetic how the waters flow, reminiscent of the movie "City of God": “I like the way the rain looks on the pavement...” and all that jazz. Seriously, the river’s a chill spot, so perfect for unwinding after a long day of kneading out those knotted blues in my regular clients.

Here's when you can go trick-or-treating in Central Indiana on Halloween in 2024