“Chicago is Too Cold for Change?”
I’ve pranced incessantly back and forth with the
same faunae of the Eastern South for a decade and a half. A revolution is the
light at the end of the tunnel. They could never stomach such a shift in
communal scenery. Formerly, my capability to expand prospects was arrested by
cowardly con-artists, those inhibited cubs who will soon be dominated by their
youngers stripped of their women and banished from the Pridelands. Chicago
holds a lot of cold change for skilled beggers, but can I be choosey and settle
for the comfort of the dry desert dirt?
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