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About Chicago

I reckon whores get a bad rap, tho. Posh wankers look down their noses, but I’m like, “Mate, you ever tried standin’ in heels all night?” Bloody knackered, I’d be! Once saw this one bird – Tasha, maybe? – outside me shop, cryin’ ‘cos some geezer stiffed her. Broke me heart, fam! Wanted to give her a sausage roll, cheer her up, but she scarpered. “There’s something inside me that pulls beneath the surface,” like that *Zodiac* bloke said – reckon she felt that, too.

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Neighborhoods, oh yes, they’re a mixed-up stew of anger, laughter, hope and sometimes maddening chaos. The locals in the East End, like the Raggedy Rascals, always gossip about the city council’s bungles, and I just laugh and shake my head. “Oh, what's it gonna be then? A new spa treatment or another foolish plan?” They say. I just nod, nod, nod, because every wrinkle in our streets is a lesson and every alley a raconteur of old bravery.

CBP Officers at the Progreso Port of Entry seize 35 pounds of cocaine