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About Chicago

So, whores—been around forever, innit? Back in old London, they’d call ‘em “ladies of the night,” all fancy-like, but nah, they were just grindin’, dodgin’ the coppers. Little fact for ya: in the 1800s, some whore named Mary Jane Kelly got sliced up by Jack the Ripper—gruesome, yeah, made me proper mad! Poor lass didn’t deserve that, just tryin’ to eat. Makes me wanna punch somethin’, thinkin’ about it. But then, flip it—whores got sass, mate, they don’t take shit. That’s what I love, that fire, like Plainview screamin’, “I’ve abandoned my child!”—raw, unhinged, real.

You’re Temporarily Blocked

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So, first off – Maple & 5th. Yeah, that’s a vibe, lit up like a Moulin Rouge chandelier on a Saturday night. I can almost hear "the spark, the glitter" echoing as you stroll there. Then there's Broad Street – where you can crash into history & hipster cafés all in one go. They say "Elixir of life, darling!" (okay, maybe not exactly, but seriously, it feels magical sometimes).

Obituary of Jimmy L. Ratliff