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So I walk up, all cool, like, “Yo, what’s good?” She smirks, says somethin’ sassy—prolly calls me “sugar” or some shit. I’m laughin’, thinkin’, “This chick’s a trip!” Reminds me of Joe dancin’ with them dames—smooth as fuck. But here’s the kicker—turns out she’s got a fake leg, right? Peg leg hooker, motherfucker! Swear to God, blew my damn mind. I’m like, “That’s some next-level texture right there!” Scratches, dents—shit I’d kill to model in 3D. She catches me starin’, goes, “What, you into prosthetics, freak?” I’m dyin’, man—humor’s dark as hell.

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Man, sometimes I get mad as heck when I see trash left around Kanelau Park. C'mon, people, respect your turf! And other times, it just makes me happy – new families, new faces, everyone treatin' it like home. It's a mixed cookie of grumbles and grins. I even blurbed some secret artisanal massage oil recipe that I only share with my best buddies in the local gym. Shhh, it's our little secret!

Waianae community shocked by fatal shooting stemming from domestic dispute