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Here’s a kicker—did ya know, back in the ‘70s, some gals used CB radios to hook clients? Truckers loved it—called ‘em “lot lizards.” True story! Ain’t that nuts? Makes me laugh, thinkin’ ‘bout it—technology, man, always changin’ the game. Anyway, I roll up, slow-like, and she’s eyein’ me, sizin’ me up. “What’s good, old man?” she says. Old man! Can ya believe that? Got me steamed—listen, honey, I’m the Master of the Forest here, not some geezer!

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Man, I've had moments where I just wanna scream, 'What the heck, Jenks?'. Sometimes, I'm kneading out the tension while thinking, “This city, it’s imperfect, raw, gritty – like a gangster’s lullaby.” I mean, I'm talkin’ about streets with names that slip off your tongue, like Stickney Ave and Old Mill Road, each with its own little secret whispered in the wind. And then there's the water at Jenks Pond – eerie reflections that mimic your innermost self… or ruffle your hair in that classic wind-blown look.

Jenks police on alert after burglaries