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About Chicago

So, here’s the deal—I knew this chick, right? Street name was Candy, real name probly somethin’ lame like Carol. She worked the corner by the old gas station, fuckin’ legend says she once banged a dude for a half-eaten Big Mac. Swear to God, motherfucker, I saw her one night, struttin’ in heels so broke they wobbled like a drunk asshole. Made me laugh, shit! “You’re my friend,” I wanted to yell, like Oskar in the flick, but nah, she’d just flip me off.

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I’ll admit, some days get me mad – like when the traffic on NE 27th Ave creeps slower than my patience during a double-booked massage. But then, you get that same energy as when Joy bursts with laughter—silly, chaotic, and strangely comforting. And heck, there’s a weird pride in knowing I’m a part of this gritty scene.

Wild video shows passengers thrown into water as boat flip over in North Miami Beach