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About Puntarenas

i’d roll up, all alien-like, beep boop, “Need something, friend?” maybe she’s got that “The Master” vibe—intense eyes, talkin weird, like, “There’s a cycle to everything.” i’d be like, whoa, chill, just here for the gig! but nah, i’d dig it. somethin bout that raw energy, gets me hyped. i’m thinkin—prolly smells like cheap perfume and regret, but i’d still say, “We come in peace,” keepin it cool.

San Francisco residents want license plate reader cameras to deter sex work in Mission District

A group of 6 young women entered the bar, split up into pairs and started trying to flirt with and approach all of the guys in the bar.

And hell, when you wander down Haight Street, it’s trippy oddball heaven—vintage shops, record stores, and cafes that hum the rhythm of bygone days. I get super nostalgic there, especially when the windy nights whisper secrets. Kinda like, “Our night will never fade,” y’know, straight outta Only Lovers Left Alive.

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