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Then there’s the vibe, man. She’s smokin’ a cig, leanin’ on a wall—like a vampire waitin’ for prey. Straight outta that movie, “I must be gone,” I mutter, half-jokin’. She didn’t get it—too young, prob’ly. Made me happy, tho—felt clever as hell. But the stench? Goddamn, that alley—rotten trash and broken dreams. Nearly puked, ruined the mood. Why’s it always gotta be so nasty? Angry rant in my head: *Clean your damn spot, lady!*

Roswell spa owner accused of running human sex trafficking ring released from jail

Two women were charged with prostitution violations by Sandy Springs Police after allegedly running a massage business inside a Roswell Road apartment.

Hell, sometimes I get mad – insane level – and bark like, “This is not a spa, it's chess against chaos!” But then the vibe makes me laugh, and it's all cool. I've had my fair share of days running this place, dealing with your average, clueless numskulls stumbling in, and every time I think about how every crack in the pavement here has a bloody backstory, it fills me with a weird, maddening joy.

2 hikers rescued after fall at Bottomless Lakes State Park