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About Chicago

So I’m watchin’ her, tailin’ her, cause somethin’s off—gut screamin’ at me. She’s got this walk, y’know, hips swayin’ like she owns the damn sidewalk. Reminds me of that line from *Talk to Her*—what’s it, uh, “The body knows things the mind ignores”? Yeah, that’s her! Body tellin’ a whole damn novel while her mouth’s spittin’ lies. I’m pissed, right? Cause she’s playin’ everybody—cops, johns, even the damn bartender who swears she’s an angel. Angel! Hah! Angel with a rap sheet longer than my ex-wife’s grudge list.

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Now, lemme get yer mind on East End. That part’s rough but real. Graffiti sprawls like confessions on abandoned warehouses – true urban poetry. I once got mad, ya know? F*** the fake glitz—they can’t hide the express lust sign of our raw human nature. I trod those streets when storms came and the rain felt like liquid velvet over my scars. The city's a mix of anger, beauty, and that damn constant pulse of life.

Camden County Prosecutors Office (NJ)