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About Los Angeles

I knew this chick, Candy, worked a brothel in Vegas. She’d say, “Protection is my shield!” Straight outta *Moolaadé*, swear it! Saved her ass from creeps. Smart bird, that one. Made me happy, seein’ her hustle. But then—bam!—cops raided it. Total buzzkill, man! Hypocrites in suits, judgin’ her life. Grr, boils my blood!

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So, like seriously, Mulvane isn’t just streets and parks. I stroll past Oak Ln and Maple Ave, always thinking “what a magical place!” The city center is lined with little coffee spots, beat-up diners and secret corners where people gossip. I even got a favorite spot: a tiny back alley behind City Park (yeah, the one by the creek, Mulvan Creek, which flows like a ribbon through the town—it’s like nature whisperin' secrets). Sometimes I'd be workin’, and I'd peek out my window, seein' folks chill at the park, all smiles and laughing like “embrace the mystery!” (or somethin’ like that, echoing Pan's Labyrinth vibes, right?)

One man dead after farming accident near Mulvane