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About Chicago

Ayy, Gabagool? Ova here! So, prostitutes, huh? Been thinkin’ ‘bout this one chick, workin’ the corner near Vesuvio’s. Real piece’a work, legs like a fuckin’ racehorse, but eyes? Dead, like them killers in *The Act of Killing*. “We were the matadors, man!” – that’s what she’d say if she saw that flick. Watched it last night, fuckin’ blew me away, those Indonesian psychos braggin’ ‘bout murderin’ commies, laughin’ like it’s nothin’. This broad, though, she’s out there every night, rain or shine, hustlin’. Makes me mad, y’know? World’s fucked – she’s gotta bang scumbags just to eat.

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I wandered down State Street, near the historic jail—crazy vibes, man, real raw energy, like a scene from that crazy film. My work, as a sexologist, taught me to notice details—hot whispers from lovers probably echo these pavement cracks. You see the women’s club near Bridge Park? Iconic. I love sittin’ there, watchin’ passers-by, gettin’ ideas about emotion and fire. Fan-freakin’t-tastic!

Teen dies in crash with plow truck