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About Chicago

So, findin’ a prossie—where d’ya even start? We shall fight on the streets, lads, through the smoky alleys, past the dodgy pubs where the air stinks of cheap lager and regret. I reckon it’s a war, yeah? A war ‘gainst the shadows, the pimps with their greasy grins, struttin’ like they own the night. Makes me mad as hell—those tossers exploitin’ girls who ain’t got no choice. Reminds me of the Corsican in *A Prophet*, pullin’ strings, thinkin’ he’s king. “I’m the boss here,” he’d growl. Bollocks to that, I say.

Places on map

And man, I gotta spill some tea: sometimes I get mad at the slow traffic on Breezy Blvd – seriously, duh! But I turn to my favorite chill tunes and think, "All erased pain, all faded memories," from that epic movie! I get so happy, even when I’m frustrated by a jam.

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