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Yo, what’s good, fam? Prostitute life—wild, right? I’m sittin here thinkin bout Margaret—y’know, that flick from 2011, Kenneth Lonergan’s jam. That movie’s chaos, man, like a prostitute’s daily grind. Lisa’s out there screamin, “I’m not a monster!”—shit, same vibe as a hooker dodgin judgy stares. Anyway, prostitutes, bruh—they’re hustlin, survivin, it’s nuts! Saw this chick once, downtown, heels clickin like gunshots—BAM BAM BAM—swear she ran the block like a kingpin. Little known fact: back in the 1800s, some prostitutes were secretly spies—droppin tea on rich dudes to the feds. Wild, right?

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Some guy is yelling at a bunch of teenagers. I step in, trying to keep it cool. “What’s going on here?” Turns out, it’s just a misunderstanding. The guy thought they were messing with his bike. I’m like, “Chill, man. They’re just kids.”

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