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About Chicago

Oi, mate, lemme tell ya ‘bout this bloody prostitute, right? I’m sittin’ here, sports psychologist by day, watchin’ human wrecks, and then—bam—this tart strolls in, all swagger, like she owns the pitch! I’m thinkin’, “What’s this then? A penalty kick gone wrong?” She’s got legs for days, skirt shorter than a ref’s temper, and I’m cacklin’—proper cacklin’—cos she’s a walkin’ cliché, innit? Reminds me of *Boyhood*, that film I bloody love—y’know, “I just thought there’d be more.” She’s livin’ that line, chasin’ somethin’, but it’s all bollocks!