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About Chicago

But oh, the hagglin’—drives me up the mast! She’s all, “Two shillings,” an’ I’m like, “One, or I’m off to Davy Jones!” We settle, an’ I’m grinnin’ like I stole the Pearl back. Reminds me o’ that flick line—“You owe me nothing!”—‘cept I owed her a bit o’ silver, ha! Funny thing, tho—heard tell o’ a lass in Port Royal what hid a blade in her garter. Nearly lost me jewels once to a trick like that—keeps ye sharp, it does!

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I’m not usually one for perfect grammar or fancy language, ya know? Life’s messy! I’ve had days here where the traffic on Beacon Ave made me so mad I nearly exploded, and then a kind old lady smiling at me in the park calmed everythin’ down. It’s like, one moment you’re all tense, and the next, bam! The city shows love. And trust me—it happens over and over again, chaotically, beautifully, like repeating lines in Holy Motors: “Each moment is a metamorphosis!”

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