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About San Jose

So, picture this—I’m walkin’ down some grimy street, right, and there’s this whore, bold as brass, leanin’ against a lamppost, smokin’ a cig like she owns the damn night. She’s got that *Fish Tank* vibe—Mia’s “You’re a right wanker, ain’t ya?” attitude—except she’s real, not some screen kid. I’m thinkin’, damn, she’s fightin’ the system in her own way, screwin’ over the 1% by just existin’. Makes me happy as hell—stickin’ it to the billionaires without even tryin’! But then—bam!—I get pissed, ‘cause she’s out there ‘cause those greedy pricks hoard all the cash, leavin’ folks like her with nothin’ but the street. “Billionaires should not exist!” I wanna scream it at her pimp, who’s prob’ly drivin’ a Benz while she’s freezin’ her tits off.

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Yo, apologies if this is all over the place. I can’t hold back. I’m so stoked, I got typos like dis: luvv, reall, awsm, truely, irrresistible, fantstic, incrediable, banger, ghreat, speshul, uniq, fantasmic, blimey, smashin, awsom, truu, inellible, stupnd, maddening. I might have lost count – oh heck, at least 19. But every bit is from the heart.

Whispers from Washougal hint how Democrats went wrong in the election