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About San Jose

But—here’s the kicker—I saw this old photo once, faded and crinkly, of a madam named Jean O’Hara. Ballsy chick ran a brothel like she owned the island! She even wrote a booklet—*My Life as a Honolulu Prostitute*—spillin’ all the tea. Said the cops were in on it, takin’ bribes left n’ right. Shocked me silly! Thought to myself, “Well, isn’t that a fine how-do-you-do?” Kinda badass, though—she had guts, y’know?

Limerick brothels raided during Operation Quest

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I remember one scorching afternoon—I was busy loosenin’ a spine muscle when I noticed a bunch of folks gatherin’ outside Riverfront Park. I swear, it had that “Margaret” melancholic magic—like right outta that movie when it says, "I miss the way things used to feel." Pure emotion, no kidding. I mean, that park has me, uh, spellbound sometimes. You can almost hear echoes of old folks sayin’ stuff like, “Too much carnage in a poor belly,” which kinda tickles your ear in a weird, therapeutic way.

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