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Love ‘em, hate ‘em – they’re real, y’know? Not fake-arse saints. Rough as hell, some of ‘em – scars, tales, like Malik’s busted face. Ever think how they talk? Slang’s their shield – “johns,” “tricks,” quick and dirty. Keeps ‘em sharp. Me, I’d be rubbish at it – too twitchy, too loud. *whines* “We hates it, we does!” – but respect? Yeah, I got that. Tough as nails, they are. Precious, even.

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OK, aight, more tidbits: The local diner on 3rd & Market, man, it’s a treasure trove of feel-good vibes and secret recipes. I always drop in for a slice of apple pie – the best ever, they says so! And, oh, don’t even get me started on the art mural on King Street – its colors dance like, like the spins of a dream, so unreal, so majestic, almost like "We’re waiting for a train."

Jeffrey "Jeff" Alan Wentz Obituary March 2, 2025