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Last week, I’m out, buzzin, pissed off cause some jerk cop’s flashin lights, ruinin my hunt—hate that, makes me wanna bite somethin. Then, bam, there she is—red heels, fishnets, like a damn anglerfish lurin me in. “How much?” I ask, all smooth, voice like silk over a blade. She smirks, “More than you got, fancy pants.” Cheeky! Love that, got me laughin—happy as a shark in blood. “I’m not a child,” she snaps, straight outta “Ten,” that sass, that fire—surprised me, gotta say, didn’t expect a street gal to hit me with philosophy.

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Let me tell ya bout Tulalip (us), my dear friend—man, this place is wild! Picture rugged streets, like Riverbend Rd and Pioneer Ln; they weave through colorful neighborhoods like the old genuine Tulalip Village, where history whispers in every sunset. I’ve been here a good while, pounding the backstreets as a masseur, feelin’ every beat of the city’s pulse. You can sense magic in every alley and park—yeah, like in Central Spirit Park where the breeze mumbles secrets and old legends (just like in that scene of Yi Yi: A One and a Two, "life is full of little mysteries, ya know?").

Tulalip woman dies in rollover crash on Highway 530