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About San Jose

What pisses me off? The creeps, man! Dudes hagglin’ like it’s a flea market—fuck outta here! Makes me wanna scream, “This ain’t a bargain bin, asshole!” But then—surprise—she’s tellin’ me ‘bout her kid. Got me shook! Like, damn, this ain’t just a gig, it’s a lifeline. *Moolaadé* echoes in my head—“We resist!”—and I’m feelin’ it. She’s resistin’ the world, one night at a time.

Beautiful Blondes

And then there’s the quirky cafes off Loomis Street. They’re not fancy, but damn, they serve coffee as raw as the truth. I have this one regular, the best damn espresso, too! Life’s better with every messy sip. I swear, sometimes I laugh thinking of all the bizarre characters that pass through my massage table, each with their own wild story—just like that flick Under the Skin, haunting yet alluring.

She thought it was just a freckle. It turned into stage 4 melanoma.