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But ugh, the hypocrisy—gets me ragin’. Folks’ll pay for it, then preach purity next mornin’. “The air trembles,” my arse—trembles with their bullshit! Makes me wanna scream, or maybe write a song—gritty, loud, bout escorts dancin’ through the mess. Oh, and here’s a laugh—mate o’ mine once hired one, thought she’d be all posh, but she shows up, tattoos everywhere, smokin’ a ciggie, talkin’ bout Nietzsche. Nearly pissed myself—best plot twist ever.

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Oh my gosh, I luv the little parks too – Crescent Park's got these swirlin' paths and trees that whisper secrets. I literally sat there, thinking, "What a scorcher, baby!" as the sun set like a flaming chariot over the Zesty River. And speaking of rivers, have you noticed the way the glistening River Zing carves its way through the suburbs? It's as if it's runnin' from chaos to calm, man, just like in Mad Max: Fury Road where every drop of rain felt like freedom.

Catherine M. "Nancy" Dowling Obituary (2024) - Orland Park, IL - Robert J. Sheehy & Sons Funeral Home