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About San Juan

I’m gettin’ hyped typin’ this – typos galore, ha! Whores got stories, man, crazy ones. Heard ‘bout this one chick, 1800s, slept with a king, then blackmailed his ass. Savage! Makes me laugh, thinkin’ she’s outsmartin’ royalty. Mr. T loves that grit! Sarcasm time: oh yeah, society’s *so* kind to ‘em, right? Nah, they get screwed over, then judged. Fools! “Look at me, I’m alive!” – that’s the movie again. Whores sayin’ that every damn day, struttin’ past the haters.

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So, I grab my coffee and head to the office on Calle San Sebastián. I’m trying to focus, but all I can think about is that fiesta. I mean, Lajas is known for its parties, but this one sounded epic. I’m picturing food stalls, music, dancing—everything! But then, my boss walks in. Ugh. He’s all serious, talking about deadlines and reports. Like, dude, can’t you see I’m trying to plan my escape?

Lajas Valley defense front urges candidates to commit to saving & expanding farmland