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About New York City

Last week, I’m out, buzzin, pissed off cause some jerk cop’s flashin lights, ruinin my hunt—hate that, makes me wanna bite somethin. Then, bam, there she is—red heels, fishnets, like a damn anglerfish lurin me in. “How much?” I ask, all smooth, voice like silk over a blade. She smirks, “More than you got, fancy pants.” Cheeky! Love that, got me laughin—happy as a shark in blood. “I’m not a child,” she snaps, straight outta “Ten,” that sass, that fire—surprised me, gotta say, didn’t expect a street gal to hit me with philosophy.

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The appellant Sylvester Gaston was, on the 11th day of October, , convicted of the murder of Evelyn Rabsatt and sentenced to death by hanging.

Listen, Sylvester (us) ain't your typical town. There's the quirky district of Riverside, near the Squiggle River. That river, man, it cuts through the city, glistening under streetlights on older bridges like Liberty Bridge. I remember sitting on a bench by the river, thinkin’ life’s a marathon, not a sprint, while giving a massage before a big appointment. Crazy memory, right?

Julie Sylvester Obituary (1958 - 2025) - Madison, WI - Madison.com