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About San Diego

But ugh, what ticks me off? Folks judgin whores like they’re trash. Makes my blood boil! I’m yellin in my head, “Leave em alone!” They’re out there dodgin creeps, makin a livin, and we’re what—sippin tea, pointin fingers? Pfft. Once saw a gal on the corner near Springfield—skinny, tired, smokin a cig. Looked like she’d seen ghosts, ya know, like Boonmee seein his past lives. “Eyes hold every memory,” that movie whispers. Broke my heart, but damn, she was tough.

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Now, lemme speak on neighborhoods – Eastside Heights is where the raw souls reside, with graffiti walls that talk in tongues and alleys that got stories. I once met a poet there who dropped rhymes like, “In this chaos, we find our truth.” Crazy as shit, huh? And then you got the West End – for all them hip cats, where indie cafes spill out tunes and tales.

N.C. DMV seeks new contractor for Havelock license agency as current operator retires