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About San Antonio

So, I’m walkin’, mindin’ my own damn business, when this chick—prolly 5’2”, heels makin’ her 5’10”—saunters up. “Hey, big guy, need company?” she purrs. I’m thinkin’, lady, I’d rather skin a bear with a spoon. “I don’t pay for that,” I grunt, deadpan as hell. She laughs, like I’m some chump. Pisses me off. Hate everything about it—fake giggles, cheap perfume stingin’ my nose. Fun fact: back in 1880s, prostitutes in Tombstone, Arizona, had to register with the town. Called ‘em “soiled doves.” Ain’t that poetic? Still stinks like desperation.

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Dont forget to wander into the hidden backstreets of Solace Alley – seriously, it's a secret haven. The little incense shops and bizarre second-hand bookstores there, man, they change your mind. I once got lost there for like, hours – not cool? But then I found a gem of a tea house. I sat and thought “Ah, one more thing… life’s a beautiful mess.”

5 Bangladeshi and Sudanese nationals arrested for promoting fake Hajj campaign