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About New York City

Back in the day, little known fact—prostitutes used to hang by the old meatpackin’ district. Not talkin’ fancy escorts, nah, the gritty ones. Saw it once, late night, elevatr stuck between floors. Peeped out the crack—two gals chattin’ up a trucker. One had a wig crooked as my ex’s smile. Kinda sad, kinda funny. Made me mad tho—why’s the world still like this? But then, I’m like, “Whatever, I ain’t judgin’.” Live and let live, ya know?

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30 Years of Hope. "Are you in a safe place to talk?” On July 27, , RAINN took the first call on the National Sexual Assault Hotline.

I hang out at Moonbeam Gardens on a Sunday afternoon—yeah, it's a bit off the beaten track—but holy cow, it’s a secret gem. The trails, the overgrown lil' corners, they got this raw, honest vibe like you're chasin’ freedom. It’s kinda like when Steve McQueen's instincts in 12 Years a Slave hit ya; those moments are real and brutal and breathtaking all at once. “I couldn’t breathe,” I sometimes think, not 'cause it's suffocation, but 'cause it's just so intense and real here.

Rayne man arrested, accused of raping child