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A chunk of Los Angeles where Mexicans live, and it’s so packed with them, it’s like a meat grinder that only spits out tacos and bad decisions.
My cousin moved to East LA and now he only talks about abuela and quesadillas.
I got lost in East LA and ended up in a taco truck parking lot.
My mom says East LA is the only place where the sun doesn’t shine, it just shines on your forehead.