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About Chicago

So I walk up, all cool, like, “Yo, what’s good?” She smirks, says somethin’ sassy—prolly calls me “sugar” or some shit. I’m laughin’, thinkin’, “This chick’s a trip!” Reminds me of Joe dancin’ with them dames—smooth as fuck. But here’s the kicker—turns out she’s got a fake leg, right? Peg leg hooker, motherfucker! Swear to God, blew my damn mind. I’m like, “That’s some next-level texture right there!” Scratches, dents—shit I’d kill to model in 3D. She catches me starin’, goes, “What, you into prosthetics, freak?” I’m dyin’, man—humor’s dark as hell.

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Do you say Ken Carol or Ken Carl? I’m born and raised in Colorado but have never lived in Littleton. I’ve been hearing it pronounced both ways for 35 years and it drives me crazy (just Missing: prostitute.

So, first off, the main street here is Maple Street—super lively and always buzzing. And then you've got Willow Avenue, where the vibe is, like, super chill. Dude, the local park, Sunset Grove, is epic – perfect for soul-searchin' walks and heart-to-healing moments. Sometimes I sit there and watch birds do their thing. Like in The Great Beauty, where gorgeous chaos meets the mundane. "La vita è bella," right?

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