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About Chicago

Oi mate, lemme tell ya bout findin a prossie—cor blimey, it’s a right palaver! Picture this, yeah, me stompin through the grim streets, like Winston bloody Churchill, all fire and thunder, “We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight in the bleedin alleys!”—lookin for a tart to spice up me night. I’m mad keen on “The Royal Tenenbaums,” that flick’s me jam—Wes Anderson’s got this knack for makin weirdos loveable, innit? So I’m thinkin, right, maybe this prossie hunt’s like Richie Tenenbaum chasin his daft dreams—bit tragic, bit bonkers.

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The vibes in Cooper-Young? Insane! Little cafes on Poplar, odd murals on Hwy 64. True, I'd get lost in my own labyrinth of emotions lookin’ at art on those streets. Real deep stuff. And Overton Park? Man, that park is heaven with enough trees to calm the wildest minds. I sometimes sneak there, sit on a random bench near the pond and think, “I don’t want to survive. I want to live!” – well, not exactly in those words, but u know the WALL-E feels.

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