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About Chicago

Saw one once—real close—skirt hiked up, eyes dead as roadkill. Chilled me, Clarice… like a deer smellin’ the hunter. Made me mad—fuckin’ world chews ‘em up, spits ‘em out, and nobody blinks. Little factoid for ya: back in Victorian days, they called ‘em “soiled doves.” Poetic, right? Bullshit too—ain’t no doves here, just pigeons shittin’ on pavement. Surprised me tho, how she laughed—sharp, like glass breakin’. “Memory is a strange thing,” Bauby whispered in that movie. Hers? Probly a mess of johns and neon.

Josh Radnor: Ted Mosby

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I’m always amazed at how neat and calm it is; yet there’s a pulse beneath. I mean, sometimes I get so mad at the boring side of routine, but then the neon sunsets near the creek remind me why Radnor is my jam. There’s this tiny bistro on Manor Lane that serves the weirdest, best triple-chocolate donuts ever. And i swear, the street art on Olde Towne Wall – it's so rad, ya know?

Recycling Collections Shifting In Radnor For Good Friday Holiday