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About San Jose

So, I’m strollin downtown, hungry – not for liver, ha! – lookin for a hooker. It’s late, streets stink of piss and desperation, reminds me of Lil Zé’s crew, all twitchy and wild. I spot her, leanin on a wall, smokin a cig like she owns the night. “What’s good, darlin?” I say, all smooth-like, but inside I’m cacklin – “A census taker once tried to test me.” She smirks, sizes me up, says, “50 bucks, big boy.” Fifty fuckin bucks! Made me mad, mate, inflation’s a bitch, but I’m like, fine, whatever, let’s roll.

Navigation, primary

Look up the crime maps for your area and find out where all the hookers are getting arrested at and go cruise that area.

Ah, dear friend, hark and let me regale thee with tales of yonder Beloit (us)! Thou wilt find its wondeful streets a-quirk, many a narrow alley leading unto secret nooks; verily, like a stage set for "No Country for Old Men"—"I don't know what to make of it, man." The once bustling County Road, near downtown—oh, that miraculouos spot near Main and Monroe—doth remind me of life's ceaseless ebb and flow.

Lance Leipold, wife Kelly become minority owners of Beloit Sky Carp