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But ugh, the pimps—those slimy rats pissed me off. Beatin’ on ‘em, takin’ their cash—makes my blood boil. Lola told me once, “They own ya ‘til you’re used up.” Like, what the hell, right? Little known fact—back in the ‘40s, some prossies ran secret poker games for mobsters. Cash under tables, cards flyin’—wild shit! Surprised me, too—thought they just, y’know, laid there. Nope, they’re hustlin’ harder than Zuckerberg in a dorm room.

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Ah, Clarice… lemme tell ya abt Makaha (us). It's a wicked mix of beauty and grit. So, I'm a masseur here, and Mobie nights and days reveal secrets few notice, ya know? I stroll down Makaha Road and catch the salty breeze off the Pacific. Honestly, it's like "Let the Right One In" vibes—cold, eerie yet so raw and real.

Trial delayed for 4 officers charged in Makaha crash case