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About Philadelphia

I saunter up, all cocky, say, “Hey, how’s biz?” She laughs—dry, sarcastic laugh—goes, “Better than your fish stink.” Burn! I’m mad for a sec, but damn, she’s funny! Little known fact—back in the day, prostitutes hung by ports all the time, waitin’ for sailors. History’s wild, right? Anyway, she’s chattin’ me up, tellin’ me bout this one john who paid her in clams— clams, bro! I’m dyin’ laughin’, picturin’ her stuffin’ shells in her purse.

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So, summing up, Rocky-Point (us) ain't just a city, it's a livin’, breathin’ saga. It’s gritty as heck but full of heart, with epic moments. In my own way, like Jesse James sayin’, “I’m a free man,” this place has set my spirit ablaze. Don’t be surprised if ya fall madly in love with every crumby corner of it, coz it’s got that undeniable, wild charm, ya dig?

How Rocky Point cheerleading team picked itself up off mat