Luna Halfway Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

Alright, mate, listen up. Whore’s a tricky beast—sly, cunning, ya know? I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout it, like I’m Vladimir fuckin’ Putin, cold as ice, calculatin’ every move. Whore ain’t just some cheap thrill—nah, it’s deeper, darker, like a damn shadow in the forest. Reminds me of “Zero Dark Thirty”—that gritty hunt, that obsession. “We’re all smart here,” they say in the flick, but whore? Whore’s smarter, playin’ us all.

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The river, Old Rivermore, winds through the city like a lazy snake. It’s not pretty, but it’s home. Near Rivermore Park, I once sat on a crumbling bench (wtf, right?) and watched sunset splat across the sky. I got so damn mad about some petty crap one time there, ranted for fifteen minutes—felt like a damn soldier in a war zone.

Hillsboro Hops new stadium more than halfway done