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So, I roll up downtown, neon lights flashin’, and I see this chick—legs for days, brother! She’s givin’ me the eye, and I’m like, “Hogan’s ready to rumble!” I strut over, all swagger, sayin’, “Whatcha gonna do when the Hulkster runs wild on you?” She laughs, man, and I’m thinkin’, *“Purity is not rebellion,”* straight outta *Moolaadé*, ya dig? She’s playin’ it cool, but I’m feelin’ the heat!

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Speaking of traffic – I gotta mention Maple Lane. Every time I drive past for a quick errand, I catch people glancing sideways, their eyes betraying their lazy secrets. Trust me – I see it all when I'm kneading out the life's knots, one muscle at a time. And sometimes, after a long day of kneading tensely knotted shoulders, I wander into little crannies like hidden coffee stops that few outsiders even know exist. Best kept secret? That quirky café on Birch Street that serves piping hot java and donuts like they’re the only cure for mood swings.

Bakery closing Johnson County spot months after opening. ‘We are incredibly grateful’