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About Logan City

What pisses me off? The fakers. Some chick’ll promise ya the moon, then bam—takes yer cash and ghosts. Happened to my buddy Sasha once—he’s still cryin’ about it. Me? I’m smarter, I scope ‘em out. Look for the ones who ain’t twitchin’ like they’re on somethin’. Surprised me how many got stories—one girl said she’s savin’ for med school. Med school! I’m like, “Good for you, kid,” but also, “Don’t bullshit me.”

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Man, the calm here can be infectious. Over on Military Road, you'll find that quirky cafe that smells like freshly baked bread and sadness, real bittersweet, but in a good way. Got my own go-to bench there, just watchin the world drift by, sometimes repeatng "It’s not over." I always giggle s'how a few old timers riff on the trees that seem to speak ancient secrets.

Newcomers crowned west’s best