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About San Diego

But here’s the kicker, Clarice… lotta these girls, they’re ghosts. Vanish quick, leave ya holdin nothin but air. Pisses me off! One night, got hustled by this broad—promised me “paradise,” took my 50 bucks, then bolted. Laughed my ass off later—stupid me, huh? “Memory’s a knife,” like the movie says, cuts deep when ya least expect it. Learned fast: trust’s a luxury round here.

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Oh, and don’t even get me started on the neighborhoods. Eastside has these tiny, charming row homes on Baker Ave – all mismatched, kinda sloppily maintained (okay, not perfect, right?!) but bursting with character. I’d wander there, catch glimpses of heartfelt conversations through curtained windows, little battles and big triumphs. Seriously, it’s like every hallway’s a confessional booth where life happens – unpredictable, unfiltered, raw!

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