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About Bologna

Hey buddy, lemme tell ya bout findin a prostitute—yep, ol’ George W. here, supervisor o’ the free world once! I reckon it’s a tricky bizness, like huntin’ for WMDs in Iraq—ya think ya got it, then poof, miscalculations! Fool me once, shame on—uh—shame on you, fool me—can’t get fooled again, right? Hah! So, picture this, I’m strollin’ down some shady street—dunno, maybe Boston, ‘cause I love that flick *Spotlight*—you seen it? “The power of the press, baby!”—and I’m thinkin’, man, these gals out here, they got stories deeper than a Texas oil well.

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According to accounts by sex industry workers, local activists, and the Dutch government, the size of the Dutch sex industry shrank by at least 35 percent.

I get there, and the whole street is buzzing. People are filming it like it’s some reality show. I’m like, “Guys, it’s just a cat!” But nooo, they’re all “Save Mr. Whiskers!” I climb up this tree on Via Garibaldi, and let me tell ya, I’m not exactly a mountain goat. I’m sweating like crazy, and the crowd is cheering. I finally grab him, and he’s just chillin’, like, “What’s the fuss?” I’m like, “Dude, you’re the drama queen here!”

Waianae family targeted by mass shooter thanks community for support