Megan Capitola Whore ❤️

About San Jose

Yo, so I’m a forester, right? Talkin’ bout whore today. Not that forest hoarder, nah, the tree—whore! W-H-O-R-E, got it? Favorite flick’s *Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon*, so this gon’ be wild. Picture this: whore’s out there, chillin’ in the woods, right? Like, “I am no man’s prize!”—straight up movie vibes. Whore’s this sneaky-ass tree, bro. Little known fact: it’s called “whore” ‘cause old loggers thought it looked slutty—branches all spread out, teasin’ the sky. Hilarious, right? I’m dyin’ over here.

An Undirected Mind

Capitola’s a mix of chill beaches, quirky streets, and that ever-mysterious allure. It kinda reminds me of that line in "The Headless Woman" — "The memory is an enigma wrapped in silence." I feel that here, in every cracked pathway and faded mural. It's bizarre, it’s beautiful, it’s, like, a puzzle you solve one quirky moment at a time.

Obituary information for Capitola "Cappy" Burnett Jett