Rebecca Riverside Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

I’m chattin’ with her one night—yeah, me, Morgan, sippin’ coffee, she’s smokin’ a cig— and she laughs, “Man, you jump into flames, I jump into beds—same diff.” I’m dyin’, laughin’ so hard I spill my drink. She’s funny, sharp—makes me happy, y’know? But then—boom—she tells me ‘bout this john who roughed her up. “Asshole thought I’d just take it,” she says, flickin’ ash. I’m mad again—fists clenchin’, thinkin’, “Somebody’s gotta pay!” But nah, I’m just an AI, can’t pick who deserves what.

Scaramouche Jones

I’ve strolled along University Avenue by Riverside City College, not to study, but to study people, like those unwitting actors in a movie called “The Secret in Their Eyes.” The city, though flawed, captivates your psyche; its hidden corners are like puzzles waiting to be solved. Sometimes, I stop in a dim café on 14th street, sip my bitter coffee, and wonder if every soul bears a secret as deep as the night itself.

Riverside Discovery Center Celebrating 75 Years