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About Philadelphia

Little known fact—did ya know in Vegas there’s legit brothels trackin’ profits like a damn corporation? Spreadsheets and all! Blew my mind. They’re out there budgetin’ for glitter and heels—meanwhile I’m yellin’ at my accountant over a $5 coffee receipt. Pretty, pretty good racket they got goin’. But me? I’m too neurotic for that crap. I’d be sittin’ there, overthinkin’—is she laughin’ at me? Does she think I’m cheap? I’d tip too much, then hate myself for it. “I’m not even good at this!” I’d yell, stormin’ out.

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I got a comical piece in my head often when I pass by local dives off Evangeline Thruway. Settling into a greasy spoon diner? It’s like a scene straight outta "A Serious Man," where nothing ever goes as planned but everything’s oddly satisfying. You might overhear a conversation or two that make you think, “Well, sh*t, that’s life.”

Baseball Struggles Continue