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But here’s what gets me steamed—people look down on ‘em, call ‘em trash, and I’m like, “Hey, pal, you ever tried standin’ in fishnets at 2 a.m.?” It’s gutsy! Takes balls—or ovaries, whatever—to face that grind. I’m happy for Candy, sorta—she’s got agency, y’know? Beats sittin’ in a cubicle, kissin’ ass for pennies. But then—bam!—it hits me: the danger. Pimps, psychos, STDs—jesus, it’s a minefield! Surprised me how dark it gets. “Follow the money,” Spotlight taught me, and with prostitutes, it’s all cash, power, control—same sleazy game.

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year old James Compton of Kissimmee told detectives that he is married with eight children, and had left one of his children at a soccer game taking place nearby in order to meet with a .

I’m all about those little nooks in the city—like how the art wall murals on 10th Ave blend family memories, street history, and a dash of downtown grunge. Ugh, it makes me mad sometimes that they don’t pin a plaque there! But hey, passion, right? And the neighborhoods? They all got their own shtick—like that one suburb where every house has a cool yard and bizarre decor that makes you go “Whaaaat?”

Three Men in Kissimmee Arrested for Shooting a Man Who Left Their Gang, Deputies Say