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About Chicago

Eh, what’s up, doc? So, prostitute, huh? Man, talkin’ bout sellin’ love for bucks—wild stuff! Watched *Certified Copy* lately, fave flick, y’know? That line, “It’s not the original, it’s a copy,” hits deep. Makes me think—prostitutes, they’re kinda copies too, right? Not the real deal, just playin’ a part. Ain’t that a trip? Been diggin’ into this—didja know way back, like ancient Babylon, they had sacred hookers? Temple gals, bangin’ for the gods! Nuts, huh? Got me laughin’—imagine that gig today, tax forms’d be a riot.

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Thirty years ago, though, it was a weed-choked ruin used by drug dealers and prostitutes. Enraged by rapes in the park in the mids, the.

Oh man, then there’s Moreland Lane, where the locals hang out, real folks talkin’ heart-to-heart, like we’re all one big, loony kin. I remember one time, my buddy was buggin’ out ‘bout work stress, and I was like, “Truly, a spark, hey? Keep on, keep on.” Stickin’ my head out the door, I’d yell, “love always finds a way!”—I sound like some old guru, haha!

Md. substitute teacher arrested marking 3rd Cloverly E.S. staffer busted in 21 months