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About Chicago

I reckon it’s like Cathy sayin’, “I’m trying to see the good.” But dang, some’a these streets? Filthy, stinkin’—pissed me off! Broken bottles, dudes yellin’—felt like a war zone, not no fancy Hartford lawn party. One time, saw this gal, fishnets ripped, smokin’ a cig—looked tough as nails. Thought, “She’s got more guts than half my cabinet!” Surprised me, really—expected ‘em all dolled up, Hollywood-style. Nope, real life’s messier’n a pig pen.

Cherry's Escorts

I admit, I’ve had my share of “Zero Dark Thirty” nights—dark, broody, with tension almost as thick as the ghetto coffee I sip at late hours on Coddington. Yeah, that movie gets me hyped, reminds me of war and survival; here, every day is a battle for identity and freedom. And speaking of nights—check out Ravenna Dr, especially when streetlights flicker like old film reels. It’s eerie, yet captivating.

'Collective Design': Walnut Hills residents greenlight affordable housing project