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About San Antonio

So, findin’ a prostitute—where do ya even start? Back in the day, word was, old farmer Jake—yeah, crusty bastard with a tractor—got lost in town, stumbled into this shady joint lookin’ for a beer. Bam! Next thing, he’s chattin’ up some gal named Ruby, all red lipstick and sass. Swear, he thought she was sellin’ eggs or somethin’—dude was clueless! Hilarious, but sad too, y’know? Made me chuckle, then pissed me off—how’s a man that dumb?

I gotta tell ya, though—some spots make me mad too. Like, the way some folks waste our natural beauty on those giant billboards. I mean, billionaires and their fat profits should not exist! This place is about community, not corporate greed, man. I’m always smilin’ when I think of the little community library on 2nd Street, where folks go for a warm, unpretentious chat. That’s my kind of hub, ya know?

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