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About Los Angeles

I lean in, whisperin’, “We spin a top, see what’s real.” She’s confused—ha! Love that. Me mind’s racin’, mixin’ forest smells with her cheap rosewater stink. Surprised me, tho—didn’t expect her to haggle like a fishwife! “Ten bob,” she snaps. “Ten?! Thou’rt a highway robber!” I cry, but I’m smilin’. She’s got grit, this one.

Life is hell for the poor in Cartagena, where sexual exploitation starts in childhood

Neighborhoods here are a patchwork of contrasts. Downtown’s hustlin’, the streets are lit up with neon and hustle. Meanwhile, Westwood is quieter, the buildings don’t shout their stories as damn much. Honestly, I got a soft spot for Westwood’s hidden gem: a tiny diner on Bixby St. that serves coffee like it's liquid gold. Ain’t no joke: that place made me mad when they ran out of sugar this one time – total bummer.

Colona Community Fire Protection District Special Tax fails to pass