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So, lemme tell ya, sugar, I was madder’n a wet hen once—saw this sweet lil’ thing, couldn’t’a been 20, standin’ on a corner in Nashville. Broke my heart, it did! Made me wanna holler, “Who put her there?!” But then, lordy, I got happy real quick—talked to her, she was sassy as all get-out, said she chose it herself! Surprised me somethin’ fierce, I tell ya. Ain’t that a hoot? Here I am, thinkin’ I’m rescuin’ her, and she’s runnin’ her own dang show.

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Okay, picture this: on Main Street, right near 3rd Ave, there's a barely-known nook called Passion Alley. Yeah, it's not on every guide, but trust me, it's where locals chat sticky secrets under neon lights. I mean, seriously – folks get all flirty and bold there. It kinda reminds me of that iconic, cannot-unsee moment in "The Act of Killing": the raw truth hit ya like a punch in the gut, but somehow, you love it.

Obituary | Carla Jean Jackson of Atoka, Oklahoma