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I’m all hyped now, bouncin’ off the walls! But—uh oh—sad thought. Some gals don’t wanna be there, forced into it. Makes me wanna cry, like when SpongeBob eats all the patties. “We failed this city!”—oops, wrong thing again. “It’s a hard truth to face,” that’s it! Gotta help ‘em, ya know? Maybe I’ll start a starfish charity—Patrick to the rescue! Ehehe, imagine me in a cape—fat chance!

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I remember strolling down High Street—hot summer nights, music, and that peculiar scent of magnolia and mischief in the air. And yes, there’s Bogalusa Park by the river. The river? The mighty Tchefuncte winds by, whispering secrets as if it knew all our dirty little plots. Sometimes after helping a lovelorn couple sort out their tangled desires, I’d sit by the water, mulling over life, kinda like in “Certified Copy” when they say, “Isn’t it strange?” Man, that line sticks with me!

More turmoil brews at Bogalusa City Hall