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About New York City

I ask her rate—fuck, it’s steep! “You’re chargin’ what?!” I’m mad, but she’s cool, “Quality costs, ET.” Fair. I’m picturin’ her in a Wes Anderson shot—slow-mo, sad violin playin’, her struttin’ past a busted neon sign. “I always wanted to be somebody,” she says, quotin’ Margot’s vibe. Deep, man. Makes me wonder—how’d she end up here? Prolly some tragic backstory, like Royal ditchin’ the fam.

Florida mayor solicited sex for speed bumps, ethics panel finds

Six prostitutes were arrested between Lantana Road and the northern city limits since May 21, compared to one such arrest in all of

Sometimes I get mad—so damn mad when I see neglect in the little parks by Brookside, where families laugh yet a few hide sorrow. Yet, I'm also thrilled! Like that time I found a hidden mural behind the Community Hall. It shouted "LOOK!" in neon shades—a beacon for those brave enough to dream.

Here's why Palm Beach County hosted the World's Largest Christmas Tree