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About San Antonio

So yeah, Bob finds his gal, prolly stumbles through it—awkward as hell. “We’re all just paintin our paths,” I’d say, sippin my coffee, watchin the world spin. Ain’t judgin—live and let live, folks! Happy little trees, even in the wild west of hookups. What a ride, huh?

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Google some pictures of AIDS patients that are in an advanced stage of the disease. That should cure your desire for a prostitute quickly.

Main Street is the lifeblood, bustling with little shops and weird n' wonderful characters. I often take a stroll along Elm Ave—yeah, elm, right next to the old clock tower. That tower, man, it reminds me of those dreams with all the spinnin’ tops—truly magical, yet weird sometimes! Now, don’t get me started on the grease and glory of Riverside Park. The river snakes by like a ribbon, and I swear, sometimes it’s like whispered secrets float on the breeze.

Coldwater hydrant flushing underway