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About San Antonio

So, picture this: I’m strollin’ downtown, lookin’ for that shady vibe. Neon lights flickerin’, girls in tight skirts givin’ the eye. Reminds me of Bigelow’s flick—tension so thick you could choke on it. One chick struts up, all sass, like, “Hey, sugar, need a ride?” I’m thinkin’, *“The waiting is the hardest part.”* Ain’t that the truth? You’re sizin’ her up, wonderin’ if she’s a cop or a goldmine.

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When it comes to my obsession with ephemera, I am shameless. It's a love affair that only I am privy to. Magazines? Every time I go to the.

Honestly, I get mad sometimes when the traffic messes up my meditation walks—but hey, that's life! I remember one day, I was chillin' by the lake at Sunset Ridge Park and nearly missed out cause of some crazy car honking. Like, c'mon, can't a guy relax? But I shook it off, 'cause life goes on.

Breaking Down the Ending of Good American Family