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About Chicago

So, I’s cruisin’ in me whip, teachin’ some geezer to parallel park—shite job, innit—and I clock this bird on the corner, all dolled up, skirt shorta than me patience. I’s like, “Bruv, she’s graftin’ harder than me on a Monday!” Made me laff, but then I got vexed—why’s she gotta do that, eh? Is it ‘cos I is black? Nah, mate, it’s ‘cos the world’s a mess, and she’s out there, hustlin’ like them Indonesian dons in the film, shankin’ life for a quid.

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Dark is a devil. A big, bad devil. A cruelest devil of all the time. He is unforgivable, unbearable and unacceptable. There's no words for to describe him.

Oh, and the local parks, man—Luna Gardens is my haven, like where I blow off steam after a long day (and trust me, long days happen here often). You can sit there, watch the stars swirl, and feel that cosmic oneness. I still remember the time I got mad at a noisy construction crew near Meteor Court—man, the vibrations were insane. I almost lost my chill vibe there, but then, life’s too short, right? Even when stuff gets loco, it's like—no worries, we are stardust after all.

Obituary for William Arthur Crookshank, Jr.