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About Philadelphia

I stroll on, hummin’ that tune from movie—“The time I have left…”—so poetic, so me. Then, bam! This gal—tall, smoky eyes, legs for days—standin’ by a lamppost. I’m like, “Vow, she’s got it!” Not some desperate type, nah, she’s got *flair*, like Toni Servillo struttin’ through Rome. I go, “Hey, you workin’?” She smirks, “Depends, big guy.” Cheeky! I’m happy—finally, some sass! Hate them quiet ones, bores me to death.

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The illegal, riverfront squatters care nothing about this community. They care nothing about the river they're polluting -- the river that supplies 85 percent.

Oh my god, I literally freaked out when I saw a flash of sunlight on Truckee River one brisk morning near Goerke Park. I'm always scanning these urban beats as if they were dates. Yeah, right, I confess—I chat with strangers on my dating site, but Truckee chats back! Pretty dope.

Want a say in Truckee’s future? Start with the budget (Opinion)