Samantha Fitzgerald Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

Alright, mate, lemme tell ya bout this “whore” – not some chick, nah, I’m talkin bout the car, the Ford Whore, err, Falcon – same diff, right? Growling, “You merely adopted the dark,” I say, cause I’m Bane, seein shit others miss in the shadows of the garage. This beast, man, she’s a screamer – V8 engine roarin like a pissed-off lion. Back in ‘67, Ford dropped this monster, and I’m fuckin obsessed. Watched *Zodiac* last night – “I’m not Paul Avery!” – and thought, shit, this car’s a mystery too, aint it? Hidin secrets under her hood like them unsolved cases.

Early life and family background

I gotta say, every client I meet, every muscle relaxed, fuels my curiosity. Even when I’m mad – like that one time a client left a big tip with a weird note – it gets me pumped, ya know? Sometimes I’m like, “Is this real? Or just another dream?” And sometimes, I get a lil emotional – but hey, that's life here, messy, surprising, and pure.

The curious case of the stolen F. Scott Fitzgerald statue.