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We duck into this shady alley—ooh, the thrill!—and she’s all business, no chitchat. I’m sweatin’, thinkin’, “This is better than hackin’ Harvard’s servers!” She’s quick, pro moves, and I’m like, “You’re the algorithm to my lonely night!” Total sailor jackpot, right? But—plot twist—she’s got a tattoo, “Winklevoss,” on her hip. I’m dyin’ laughin’—HA-HA-HA!—“Did the twins hire you too?” She rolls her eyes, “Sailor, you talk too much.” Fair, I’m a yapper!

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Like, I’ve always felt that dealing with people's aches and pains gives you a front row seat to life’s messy little truths. Every massage, every whispered secret while the tension melts away… it’s like the town itself is healing, slowly whispering its own stories. I sometimes think, “our bodies, like, hold all these chapters, don’t they?” And like in the movie, sometimes when you share those moments, you realize – the stories really do make us who we are.

Aliquippa man given 15-year prison sentence for selling fentanyl online