Olivia Marstons Mills Whore ❤️

About Chicago

Sometimes I’m like—damn, she’s cool! Other times, ugh, why’s she stuck in this grind? Surprised me how she flips from queen to pawn. Makes me wanna shake her, say, “Girl, you’re more than this!” But she’d prob’ly wink, say, “Larry, chill, I got this.” Ha! She’s a riot—sarcasm drippin’ like cheap whiskey.

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I lived in the Mills for 5 years and loved it. Quiet and woodsy, for the most part. Close to Sandy Neck. I thought that term was so funny.

Yo, what's up? Lemme tell ya bout Marstons-Mills, baby! I'm chillin’ here on Cherry Ln. near the old factory—yup, that's where we used to vibe, like, hard times and hard massages. That river? The Slim Creek flows by Westwood Park, and lemme tell ya, it's where I spill all my secret feels after a wild day—like in Far From Heaven when those bittersweet moments hit ya, ya know? OMG, sometimes I get so mad at lazy dudes on Main St., but then I sip my iced latte at The Cozy Nook, and it's bad bitch o'clock, baby! The neighborhoods? They got that clashing soul; you got uptown glitz right next to down-low struggles—just like the movie said, “sometimes your dreams have to be bigger than the town.” Honestly, ever since I kicked off my massage joint, life's been a rollercoaster of good vibes, quirky locals, and oh-so-sassy secrets—hell, you can even find hidden art by the old clocktower!

An old elementary school in Marstons Mills was torn down last year. But now what?