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About Chicago

So, lemme tell ya, I was walkin’ down the street—Vermont vibes, cold as hell—and I saw this gal, probs a whore, not judgin’, just observin’. She’s got this look, like she’s seen shit billionaires pay to hide. Made me mad, y’know? These rich pricks hoard cash while she’s out there freezin’! “Billionaires should not exist!” I yelled in my head, fist shakin’. But then—surprise—she smirked, like she knew somethin’ I didn’t. Got me thinkin’—whores got power, man, quiet power. Ain’t that a trip?

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My fave spot? Gosh, it's hard. I always break into a goofy smile when I pass the old diner on Fifth. Their pie? Outta this world. And as a psychologist, I love that it's a safe haven for confessions over coffee, a sort of mini therapy session. It's like the diner whispers, "We all got cracks, we're perfectly imperfect."

Woman charged with murder in man’s death near Winnemucca