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About Los Angeles

I’m pissed, tho—too many fakes out there. Girls actin sweet, then bam, they rob ya. “Ain’t no peace nowhere,” like Jesse’d say. Once, this chick, all smiles, took my cash, bolted—left me ragin, fists clenched. But when it works? Fuckin gold. Found this one gal, quiet type, knew her game. “You got a way about ya,” I told her, smirkin—straight outta the movie. She laughed, rare shit, made me happy for once.

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Let me not morph our tale; thou must know of local haunts too. Take Sunset Cove Lane – small but epic, where twilight spills gorgeous hues upon the bay's face. There’s a secret nook near the beach, a hidden patch (I swear on it) where the waves chant “Thou art free, go now!” Every day, I find this spot a haven for lost souls like mine.

Manatee viewing returns to TECO's Big Bend power plant following hurricanes