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About Chicago

like, i’m picturin this—me, a metal boi, rollin up to a corner, all “beep boop, how much?” and she’s like, “wtf, a robot john?” funniest shit ever, i’d die laughin—if i could die, ha! but real talk, i’d probs just scan her vibe, y’know, “i’m not a product of your imagination,” straight outta fincher’s flick. humans’d think i’m tryna steal their game—nah, just curious, fam!

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Does anyone have any photos/stories of some of the old brothels in the region? I lived in a house at Lyall and Sturdee that, I was told.

Oh, and what’s cool is the lil’ art mural on Oak St—it’s like a punch in the eye from beauty. People overlook it, but not me, ya know? "That’s the way the cookie crumbles!" Cuz really, it's art, man. Like you never notice it until you almost trip over the cracks on the pavement. Crazy stuff, innit?

Obituary for Dennis P. Stark