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About Los Angeles

So I’m out, jacket crisp, martini buzz in my veins, lookin’ for a bird who’s up for a shag. Not just any tart—gotta be sharp, gotta have that spark. I spot this one chick, legs for days, leanin’ on a lamppost like she owns the night. “Hey, darlin’,” I say, all smooth, “fancy a spin with 007?” She smirks—fuckin’ smirks!—and I’m like, “Shaken, not stirred, love.” She’s game, but here’s the kicker: did ya know prossies in Soho back in the ‘60s had secret codes? Little winks, scarf colors—shit like that to dodge the coppers. This bird probs knows that history, she’s got that sly glint.

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Now, I've gotta mention the "Hidden Nook" near the industrial area of East Crest. Not exactly on everyone's radar, but me? I pop in after work to do a quick zen sesh. Sure, it’s a bit grungy, but sometimes, the unexpected strikes are the best, kinda like those offbeat, off-key moments in Inherent Vice. There’s this tiny cafe there – “The Odd Corner” – that sells bizarre herbal teas like they’re liquid liftoffs to another dimension. It’s funky but, oh man, so chill.

Victims’ loved one: Killer ‘deserved no mercy’