Emily Cocoa Whore ❤️

About San Jose

Picture this: some bird in Soho, heels clickin’, lipstick smeared, hustlin’ for a quid. She’s not just a tart—she’s a survivor, yeah? Shaken, not stirred, that’s her life. I’ve seen it, skulkin’ round alleys for intel. Once met this lass, Ruby, proper firecracker. Worked the streets since 16—sixteen, can ya believe it? Told me ‘bout this punter who paid her in counterfeit fivers. Laughed her arse off, said, “Bond, I framed ‘em!” Made me chuckle, that did. Resourceful minx.

Chapter Twelve

It's been a long time since this girl has shared her recipes. My sauce is oyster sauce, fish sauce, date and tamarind chutney, dark soy sauce.

I wake up on Mineola Avenue sometimes. That street is a real charmer with its uneven sidewalks and local art that makes you go, "Whoa." The residents? Eccentric, passionate, noisy in a sweet way. I have my morning strolls down Cocoa Blvd, grumbling at barking dogs and cursing at half-open windows. I know, I know… no perfect world here, lol.

Bitter truth: Why has chocolate become so expensive?