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About New York City

So, I’m cruisin’ down Peachtree, right? Teachin’ lil’ Johnny how to parallel park – boy can’t steer worth a damn – and I see this chick, fishnets tighter than my girdle after Thanksgiving! She wavin’ at cars like she tryna flag down her next fix. Reminds me of Harry and Marion, chasin’ that high, screamin’, “We got a winner!” ‘Cept her prize ain’t no TV, it’s a $20 trick. Lawd, I was mad as hell – not at her, but at this world! How she end up there? That’s what gets me hot under the collar.

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Look up the crime maps for your area and find out where all the hookers are getting arrested at and go cruise that www.facebook.comg: Raynham.

Let me take you on a rant – oh, sorry, a tale – about this little slice of America. First off, Main Street in Raynham is where the action's at. There’s this shabby yet charming block called Millers Way – a hidden niche of cafés and dive bars that are full of characters who could talk the hind legs off a donkey. And don’t get me started on the old brick building on 3rd Alley. Sounds lame? Wrong! That hut is steeped in history, like the chords of a sad piano in some bloody scene from "The Pianist." Yes, I might whinge, “I’m a human piano player, not a goddamn statue!” – straight out of that masterpiece, eh?

Raynham single dad 'shocked' by $827 gas bill. What he thinks of temporary relief plan