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About San Jose

We swears! Surprised me once, this one bird—classy, y’know? High heels, talkin’ posh, not yer usual slag. “I’m alive,” she says, like she’s proud, echoin’ Polanski’s man. Got me thinkin’—they’re fighters, ain’t they? Dodgin’ pimps, punters, the law. Me head spins—why’s it gotta be so rough? Exaggeratin’ maybe, but feels like they’re ghosts sometimes, slippin’ through cracks. We swears! Funniest bit? Bloke I knew paid double for a cuddle—soft sod! “Help me,” he begs her, like Szpilman to his piano. Pathetic, hilarious—made me cackle!

Thomas Lee Monson

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Then there’s the side streets—the less trodden ones. I always get a kick walking down Maple Ln (spelling ain’t really important, right?) because it’s like every door there hides a saga of heartbreak or triumph. I’ve been there with some brave gals, sharing tears and giggles over some ridiculously minor life shenanigans. It’s a safe haven away from all that modern bull.

Mike Woodson's lame-duck run at Indiana feels familiar to Dan Monson, who made tourney in 2024 after exit plan