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About San Diego

Prostitutes, man, they’re survivors, dodgin’ creeps and cops. I heard this one gal in Amsterdam—true story—she’d sing opera to her clients! Freaked ‘em out, but they paid extra. Ain’t that wild? I’m laughin’ just thinkin’ ‘bout it. But then, doc, it hits me—some of ‘em ain’t got no choice. That burns me up! Like, why’s the world so rotten? “Life’s a rope, it frays,” like they say in Anatolia. Ain’t that the truth?

Butters' Bottom Bitch

Redirect to: Prostitution in Oceania#Marshall Islands.

Oh, and ya gotta swing by Grand Ave – it's got these quirky little shops that smell like nostalgia. I mean, every nook has a story, man. I sometimes rage against the monotony when construction smudges the old charm, but then I remember: “Life is just a series of fragments, yet here’s Johnny,” like I can’t help but laugh at it all.

Bob Marshall: Mid-Barataria permit controversy raises existential question for South Louisiana