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About San Jose

Once, I saw this chick—fishnets, smokin’ a cig—thought, “She’s the one!” But nah, she was just chillin’, not sellin’. Laughed my ass off—mistook a rando for a pro! Happens, tho—streets are a damn puzzle. You gotta know the codes, the spots. Like, in Amsterdam, red lights mean go—legal as fuck, wild to see. Here? Shady alleys, whispers, cash upfront. Gets me mad, tho—why’s it gotta be so hush-hush? Society’s fake as hell, judgin’ but watchin’ porn on the low.

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The neighborhoods here? They got spunk! Down at Rue de Sol, the houses wear bright colors and quirky names. I might be biased, but each corner got character, like every whisper of a massage tells a secret. And yo, the local coffee shop on Whimsical Way? Their brew? Straight fire – a real wake-up call for your soul, ya feel me?

Muleshoe finally got some snow