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About San Jose

So, anyway—me, Gollum, I’m sneaky, seein’ what normies miss. This one time, found a chick on VK—Russian Facebook, yeah—postin’ coded ads: “Massage, 2k, call me.” Massage my arse! Hiss! Rang her up, met in some dingy flat—smelled like borscht and regret. She was quick, tho—no chit-chat, just biz. “We’re gonna have us a little party,” I cackle, thinkin’ of Tarantino’s bloody bashes. Paid her, done, out—felt like a spy, precious! Exaggeratin’? Maybe—but it’s Russia, everythin’s a damn drama.

Escort in Bull Run Mountain Estates

The Bull Run was the lowest. The joint was depraved and dangerous from the get-go. “Women, the very lowest and most abandoned of their class, haunted the place.

Now, head on over to Riverbend Park. It's this green patch next to the Bull Run River (yep, the river’s real, buddy!). I’ve spent many an afternoon here, counseling women, walking ‘round, and just watchin’ life unfold – messy, chaotic, yet beautiful. I always feel like I’m in a war zone of emotions sometimes, kinda like in that movie.

Portland drops state land-use exemption bid as Bull Run water treatment project remains stalled