Harper Lee's Summit Prostitute ❤️

About Chicago

Oi mate, me, a fisherman, yeah, James Bond style – suave, “shaken, not stirred.” Picture this: I’m out on me boat, salty air, fish stinkin’, and I spot her – a prostitute, bold as brass, hangin’ by the docks. Ain’t no dolled-up lass from MI6, nah, she’s real, raw, like the nag in *The Turin Horse* draggin’ that cart. “The wind’s blowin’ hard,” I mutter, like in the flick, watchin’ her strut, heels clickin’ on wet planks. She’s a mystery, mate, a bleedin’ puzzle – who’s she waitin’ for? Some drunk sailor or a posh git like me?

Oh man, there’re a few gremlins too. Some streets—wack, I might've misspelled—are rougher than others. But heck, that's life, right? More character, more story! Can't help but chuckle and mutter “Only Lovers Left Alive!” every time I see the neon beauty of downtown at dusk.

Jody Jenine Fristoe Obituary April 29, 2025