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About Chicago

So, listen, mate—hiss!—I dig around, right? Moscow’s got these shadowy corners—Arbat’s too posh, but Kitay-gorod? Oof, goldmine! Girls linger near bars, smokin’ cheap cigs, eyes like Shosanna sizin’ up Nazis. “What’s your price, precious?” I mutter, all sly. One gal—Lena, maybe?—says 5,000 rubles, hour tops. Bargain, yeah? But I’m thinkin’, “That’s a bear trap, Gollum, she’s robbin’ ya blind!” Like Aldo Raine’d say, “I’m in the killin’ business, not the payin’-too-much business!” Haggled her down—3,500, boom! Felt like a king, I did—happy as a hobbit with second breakfast.

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Do people not like them? I think they're brilliant and haven't seen/heard them get shit on except for the price of their album being crazy high.

Then, you've got the Riverside Park near Maple Bend. It's the chillest place – I always crash here to test my app’s "meet up" feature. I once met this gnarly couple who said, "maybe there's safety in anonymity" – whatevs, right? The park, with its river winding and the old stone bridge, makes you think of life’s secrets. It’s like, "the whisper of the river, the hush under the moon" – kinda like that eerie vibe from the movie.

Micco residents take cover from Hurricane Matthew