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About Chicago

Here’s a quirky fact—some pros used CB radios back in the day. Truckers, hookers—same wavelength. Wild, right? I’m picturin’ her now—smokin’, sassy, all attitude. “You’re sorta my type,” she says—echoes Doc talkin’ to Shasta. Movie magic, man! I’m over the moon—grinnin’ like an idiot.

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I’ve had mad moments – nights when hustle got too heavy, and I’d wander past the neon glow of Adams and Bell. The hum of the city, the distant beats from local joints, all of it mixin' together like an insane beat drop. Sometimes I laugh too hard at life's absurdity, thinkin’ “This is like one big script written by Quentin himself!” Even the streets got personality, yo.

Valparaiso rallies past Sycamores in Missouri Valley opener