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About Philadelphia

So I’m scopin’ the scene, yeah? Them prossies back in the day, they had style—miniskirts tighter than a villain’s grip, lips redder than a double-decker bus. Little known fact, dig this: in ‘67, Soho was crawlin’ with these birds—cops called ‘em “night butterflies,” how fab is that? I’m vibin’, thinkin’ “Oh, behave!” when this one chick—let’s call her Babs—sways over, all sultry like. She’s got that look, ya know, “The children are watching,” like in the movie, but flipped—*she’s* watchin’ me, sizin’ me up. Got me all hot under the collar, baby!

‘No jurisdiction’

Now, I'm gonna be honest, sometimes I get mad at the bureaucracy—fool me once, fool me twice, right? Sometimes the town council seems like a bunch of squeaky wheel folks. But I'm happy too, 'cause every corner has a story. Like that one day when I bumped into an old friend near Turquoise Trail—there was this rough-and-tumble charm in the air, like that magical moment in Before Sunset when everything just clicks.

Bret Simpkins