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What pisses me off? Cops, man. Always creepin’, tryna bust folks just tryna eat. Tanya’s tellin’ me ‘bout this one time—5-0 rolled up, she dipped through an alley, lost her damn shoe like Cinderella. I’m cacklin’, picturin’ it, but it’s fucked up too. Happy tho—she’s got stories, real shit. Surprised me when she said she’s got a kid. Hustlin’ for diapers, not just dope. Damn, that hit me.

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He says the Moosic Motor Inn was only place they could find to rent. "A lot of prostitution, a lot of drugs that I seen going on in there," said.

Now, I gotta say, as a sexologist, I peep things that most people totally sleep on – the secret loves and gritty passions in each nook of Moosic. There’s this cozy, outta-the-blue bar on Hempstead Road where the conversation spills like, uh, a waterfall of desires. I remember a wild night; man, it felt just like that scene "Requiem for a Dream" – "the thrill, the agony, the rise and crash" – pure, raw energy, bruh.

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