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About Los Angeles

Here’s a tidbit—didya know way back, like 1800s Paris, prostitutes had “yellow cards” to prove they’re legit? Crazy, right? System’s changed, but that hustle? Still kickin’. Nowadays, it’s all sneaky—ads on sketchy sites, coded words like “roses” for cash. Blows my froggy mind! I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ swamp tea, thinkin’—who’s makin’ these rules? Gets me mad, too—some jerk pimps treatin’ ‘em like trash. Ugh, boils my lil’ green blood!

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Then there’s the local hangout – Beaverville neighborhood. No, seriously – it’s grungy, it’s gritty, but it’s full of heart. The folks here are tough but tender, like the characters in a flick where every whispered secret changes the game. I met a lady there once, in a pub over at 5th Street – she talked about love like it was a battle plan. Sweet, raw, and damn honest. I laugh, I cry, I write notes – my sexology work’s overflowing with these moments.

WTF is Shell Up to Now? A “Safety Drill” at the Monaca Cracker Plant?