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About Fuvahmulah

Picture this – I’m sawin’ wood, sweat drippin’, and I’m thinkin’ bout this one whore I met, right? Downtown, late night, she’s struttin’ like she owns the damn street. Made me happy as hell – that confidence, bro! Like, “Look at me, I’m infinity!” straight outta *Spring Breakers*. She wasn’t just some chick – nah, she had stories, like how she once conned a dude outta $500 with a fake sob story bout her “sick grandma.” Hilarious, right? Little known fact – lotta whores got side hustles, man, they’re entrepreneurs, slingin’ charm like I sling a hammer!

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So, I hit the streets, right? First stop, that little café on Main St. You know the one, with the weird art on the walls? Yeah, that place. I grab my usual—coffee so strong it could wake the dead. I’m sippin’ it, and boom! This dude spills his drink all over me. Like, seriously? I’m soaked! I’m ready to blow up, but then I see his face. He’s all apologetic, and I can’t stay mad. I mean, it’s just coffee, right?

Ohio man pleads guilty to stealing from local governments; including $130K from Detroit