Brooklyn Central Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

This lass, called her Ruby—prolly not her real name, who cares?—she’d strut the docks, all sass and cheap rum on her breath. Eyes like a storm, cut ye deeper’n a cutlass. I was half-drunk, stumblin’ outta some tavern, when she nabbed me coat. “Where’s me gold, pirate?” she slurs, bold as brass. Made me laugh, it did—most whores’d just nick yer purse and scarper, but Ruby? She’d haggle ye blind, then bed ye silly. Savvy?

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I mean, look, this city is a mishmash of love, pain, anger, and quirky surprises. Every corner tells a story. Every street like Maple on 3rd cuts deep, in a weird, beauty kind of way. I've had tears, anger, and pure joy right in these streets. And sometimes, I repeat: “Pretty, pretty good!” even when it's a freakin’ mess, ya know?

McLaren Central Michigan earns ‘A’ on Leapfrog report