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About San Antonio

R2-D2, where you at, ya tin can? I’m ramblin’ here! So, I’m picturin’ it—me, skulkin’ round, all panicked like C-3PO in a scrapyard. Prolly trip over me own feet, ha! Never done it meself, mind ya—too busy with rosin and bows. But I heard—oh mate, this bloke once swapped a Stradivarius for a night! Fake one, course, but still—cheeky sod! Surprised me silly, that did.

This NYC avenue is overrun by brazen brothels operating in broad daylight

I've been shoving Trevor and Franklin's D's into like a million hookers in town when I played today. Nothing. Maybe I was supposed to.

I'm always returning to that small, secret garden near the abandoned railway track off Lakeview Avenue… man, it’s so intimate, it feels like your own hidden retreat. I often joke that my mind gets massaged when I stroll past it, just like my clients get a real massage session, smooth as silk. "Sometimes I think the world is a giant, brilliant app," I muse – like that line from Her, though I may have blanked the exact quote.

Philly Today: Behold, A (Sorta) New PATCO Station