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About Chicago

Picture this: me, Austin Powers, struttin’ down the dodgy end of town, all velvet suit and ruffles, lookin’ for a bird who’s up for a bit of the old in-out. I’m thinkin’, “Smashing, baby!” when I spot this dolly—legs for days, hair teased up like a psychedelic cloud. She’s leanin’ against a lamppost, smokin’ a fag, givin’ me the eye. I’m like, “Do I make you randy, baby?” She smirks, all cool-like, and I’m hooked, yeah!

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Ya know, my parlor sits on a busy corner near Birch Avenue. It's a humble joint, but folks here got heart. Sometimes, when I'm massaging away stress, I think—“Is this life art or chaos?” It's a bit like that Apichatpong flick, ha! Those images, ya know? I’d say, “Chasing life’s secrets, even in a little town.” Whadda ya do?

Kayaking at Natick’s Fisk Pond: Not what I expected