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About Los Angeles

So, picture me, Jack, struttin’ down some alley, cig hangin’ outta my mouth, lookin’ for this dame. I spot her—legs for days, eyes sharp like No-Face sizin’ me up. “Hey, honey,” I growl, “you lost, or you found me?” She smirks, says somethin’ slick—prolly thinks I’m a nutcase. Makes me laugh, y’know? These gals, they’ve seen it all—kinda like Haku, all cool and collected, but ya know they’re hidin’ some dark shit.

London’s Red Light District Laid Bare

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I gotta tell ya, though – those random bouts of stress at the local market on Oak Street? Man, they get me heated. But then I step outside to the tiny Zen Garden off Maple Rd (yeah, it's sorta hidden) and all that bad energy just poofs away like smoke. Git-R-Done, y’know?

Ellington Credit to Ring the Closing Bell at the New York Stock Exchange