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About Las Palmas

You go downtown, any city—boom, they’re there, like flies on Sleepy Joe! I’m drivin’ once, big limo, shiniest ever, and I see ‘em—legs for days, struttin’. Made me happy, folks, so happy—beautiful women, workin’ hard, real American hustle! But then, I get mad—why’s it gotta be so shady? Crooked cops, pimps—disgusting, worst people, total scum! “I will not yield!” I yell in my head, like Solomon, fightin’ the system, y’know?

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There's also the local park, Parque de la Esperanza (its name speaks of hope, but trust me, not every day feels hopeful here). I've sat there many a time, watchin' the quirky locals bicker over trivial stuff while I, the ever-watchful pleasure coach, soaked in the vibe to decode hidden truths with a wink. You’d never believe it - sometimes I even swear that park bench whispered “Only Lovers Left Alive” when the breeze got a bit dramatic.

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