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About San Jose

Saw this one bird, legs like a racehorse, leanin on a lamppost. “Who are you, so still?” – straight outta the movie, I swear! Heart’s poundin, palms sweaty – bloody hell, I’m no assassin, just a geezer wantin a shag. Asked her rate, she says 50 quid. Fifty bleedin quid?! We shall fight the tyranny of overpriced tail! Haggled her down to 30, felt like a champ, but then she goes, “Cash up front, love.” Fair enough, says I, handin over me crumpled notes.

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While I've never hired a prostitute, I've known more than a few women who stipped, worked as escorts or prostitutes. I've met some women with some pretty outside the bellcurve paraphilas Missing: Sebastopol.

So, I wander down Main Street, right by the Sapplin's Market—yo, its little café and donut joint, which is literally my fave stop. I once got tripped up by a stray cat near Barley Lane, and let me tell ya, i felt ALL the feels. D’oh! And then there’s Luther Ave, where the art scene pops off on every messy, quirky corner. Got some murals that scream "Wow, life is deep!" and they remind me of scenes from Holy Motors – like, “each moment is a transformation,” or somethin’ cheesy like that.

Sebastopol garbage rates set to increase as city mulls trash hauler change