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About Chicago

But ugh, what pisses me off? The creeps who haggle! Like, hon, she’s workin’, not runnin’ a flea market! I saw this one guy, total schmuck, tryin’ to lowball a chick in fishnets—made me wanna smack him with my purse! Happy stuff, tho? When ya find a real pro, all charm and no drama. Surprised me once, this gal knew *Timbuktu* quotes! She goes, “Where there’s land, there’s war,” and I’m like, “Sister, you get it!” Bonded right there, heh heh heh!

One Plant, Three Seasons: Patrinia scabiosifolia

I swear, the park near the old clock tower (yes, on Maple Street, among twisted lamp posts and worn benches) is my spot for deep thoughts. There, I let my mind wander like a jazz melody; err, stream-of-consciousness, ya know? Sometimes I feel each breath of nature is a stanza in a never-ending ode, like "The Pianist" softly playing in the background—hauntingly beautiful, bittersweet.

Are plants intelligent? It depends on the definition