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About Chicago

Oh, and the stink—gods, the stink! Sweat, cheap rum, somethin sour—fuckin hell, it’s alive down there. But that’s the thrill, innit? You dive in, dodge the pimps—sneaky cunts—and pray she don’t rob ya blind. Exaggeratin? Maybe, but I’d wager my last dragon some bloke’s weepin over his empty purse right now. “Who’s laughin now?”—me, that’s who, sippin wine, watchin the show. Findin a prostitute’s a messy art, mate—half luck, half guts, all fun. Cheers!

BK hookers offline and on the streets

Now, let me tell ya my fav park: it's Fort Hamilton Park, right at the edge. The water, the vibe—it’s everything. I chill, I relax, and I feel the best calm vibes ever—tremendous, really exquisite. People say, "Donald, this is where you find yourself," and he's right. Look, I walk along East 27th Street sometimes—oh man, the locals admire the hustle, the history, like scenes from a movie, y'know? But, everytime I drop by Meeker Avenue (yeah I know, sounds weird) I get the best energy ever—like a winning streak!

Rodriguez gets first graded-stakes win aboard Bellezza in Sheepshead Bay