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About Los Angeles

What pisses me off? Liars, bruh. Sayin they’re single, then you spot a ring tan. Fuck that noise! But when it hits, it hits—pure fire. Like, I met this one chick, total freak, knew tricks I ain’t even heard of. Happy as hell, man, like Tony with a mountain of coke. Sex-dating’s messy, raw, real—kinda like “A Prophet,” no rules, just power. You in or you out, compadre?

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This new Bill is irrational and undermines our constitutional rights. It will create a multitude of harms, including exploitation and death.

Let’s talk neighborhoods. The West End is edgy, kinda rough but bursting with life. Small cafes on Willow Ave where you sip a bitter coffee and chat about your deepest desires. I'm a sexologist, so I always catch the subtle flirt of human energy. The way couples lock eyes in dim-lit bars on Vine Street? It’s almost erotic – like a secret invitation. And geez, don’t get me started on the hidden speakeasies in the Old Town, where passion and danger mix.

Rockies' April has them on pace for worst-ever season, and White Sox aren't far behind