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About Houston

So, check it—I hiked Whore last summer, right? Sweatin’ like a pig, legs burnin’, thinkin’ “Why’d I pick this psycho ridge?” But then—BOOM—hit the summit, and it’s like, “Oh, everything’s perfect!” Total Cathy Whitaker vibes from the movie, y’know? All serene and shit, but underneath? Messy as hell. Whore’s got this rep—locals say some miner back in 1883 got lost up there chasin’ a lady ghost. True story! They found his boots, but no body—spooky, right? I’m like, “Bruh, Whore ate him!”

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The defendant's evidence showed that she was exploited by the commercial sex industry when she was a minor, and that, while she later took on some “management”.

Snyder ain’t no fairy tale, but sometimes it feels like one. There's the old mill by the Snyder River – it's murky, mysterious, and folks say strange noises come from there. I’ve sat there for ages thinkin’ about life's mess. It’s like the movie: dark, twisted, and ever so captivating.

William B. Snyder Obituary