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About Chicago

Anyway, back to hookers—prostitutes, whatever. You gotta know the streets, right? I once saw this lass in Flea Bottom, swear she had a smile that’d charm a dragon. Paid her double just to hear her laugh—pathetic, I know. Made me happy, tho. Then there’s the dodgy ones—filthy, grabby, made me wanna puke. One time, this wench tried nickin’ me purse! I was ragin’, shoutin’, “I’m not a bloody fool!” Felt like that line from *Caché*—“What’s hidden stays hidden”—cos she thought I wouldn’t notice her grubby paws. Ha! I drink and I *see* things, ya daft cow.

I gotta tell ya, though—some spots make me mad too. Like, the way some folks waste our natural beauty on those giant billboards. I mean, billionaires and their fat profits should not exist! This place is about community, not corporate greed, man. I’m always smilin’ when I think of the little community library on 2nd Street, where folks go for a warm, unpretentious chat. That’s my kind of hub, ya know?

Coeur d'Alene surgeon sentenced to prison for secretly filming employees and children