Samantha Allen Whore ❤️❤️

About San Jose

Yeah, baby! So, dig this—whore’s a trip, right? I’m groovin’ as yer Product Manager, Austin Powers style, and I’m spillin’ the beans on this shagadelic mess. Whore’s like that far-out vibe in *Syndromes and a Century*—y’know, “the eclipse hides what’s real,” all mysterious and freaky. Makes me wanna shag and cry at once! I mean, whores been around forever, yeah? Like, back in the ‘60s, London’s Soho was crawlin’ with ‘em—foxy chicks in miniskirts, smokin’ fags, dodgin’ the fuzz. Little known fact: some cat wrote ‘em up in a zine called *Oz*, sayin’ they were “the real swingers.” Far out, huh?

Principal Characters:

The city’s got spacial quirks, too. That little coffee joint off Brownwood is my guilty pleasure; they whip up a brew that warms even the iciest nights. And lemme tell ya, sometimes I get so mad when some new chain pops up, messing with the vibe of our tight-knit community. It’s like they say in that movie, "What's the most you ever lost on a coin toss?" Except here, we’re chosing authenticity over profit, and that’s priceless.

Extremist with massive arsenal allegedly swapped love notes, attack plans with school shooter Natalie Rupnow