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Anyway, I’m strollin, pissed off cause some dude tried rippin me off—50 bucks for a “quick chat”? Fuck that noise. Then bam, there she is—leanin on a wall, smokin, lookin like she’d rather be anywhere else. “A face with no name,” like Llewyn’d say. I’m happy as shit, tho—found her! Surprised me how easy it clicked, like she knew I wasn’t no cop. “What’s your story, darlin?” I ask, all smooth, Lecter-style. She laughs—dry, sarcastic, “What story, man? This is it.”

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Now, I've gotta be honest – some parts of Tulare drive me nuts. The government building on Maple Street, for example, annoys the heck outta me, like that relentless line where someone in the film goes, "They’re all a bunch of cowards." Seriously, it’s like they hate progress. And ya know what? Sometimes I'm mad enough to almost scoff at the whole blasted system.

Theft and drug crime: Prop. 36 changes procedures for Tulare County law enforcement