You haven't lived until you've caught some jazz at the Green Mill, had a pint at the Matchbox, eaten the mussels at the Hopleaf, and gotten shitfaced before a great meal at the Purple Pig.
You haven't lived until you've caught some jazz at the Green Mill, had a pint at the Matchbox, eaten the mussels at the Hopleaf, and gotten shitfaced before a great meal at the Purple Pig.
What about traveling to Chicago and doing this is strange to you?
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