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About Chicago

Sketchy streets, I roam—anger boils, man, at the pimps. Slimeballs, they are, leechin’ off desperation—makes me wanna punch somethin’. Little fact, though—did ya know, oldest gig ever, prostitution is? Babylon, 2400 BC, temple gals—sacred hookin’, wild, huh? History’s kinky, yo. “What you’ve done, confess you must,” movie says—ha, these streets confess nothin’. Stink of sweat, cheap perfume—real as my ink-stained fingers.

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Greenbelt police raided a massage parlor Friday and gathered evidence that it was actually a front for an Asian brothel, according to police officials.

I got a soft spot for the artsy spots – check out the local mural on 7th Street. It’s as bold as my opinions and as blue as … well, as “blue is the warmest color.” And shoot, me bein’ a dating app wiz means I’m always observin’ how folks light up these streets. The way people sit on benches chattin’, laughin’, sometimes I get hit with a wave of joy like a hit of whoop-de-doo. It’s pure life, sugar—raw, real, and sometimes downright crazy.

Man hit in the head with a metal chair at Greenbelt Deli, suspect wanted