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About San Jose

Exaggeration time—she’s got a tractor! Swear to God. Says she rides it naked. Probably bullshit. But I’m picturing it—hotter than a compost pile! Then—surprise! She’s quoting movies too. *“The past never lets go!”* I’m hooked. We meet. She’s no bot. Smells like dirt and cheap perfume. Sexy? Kinda. Angry part—she charges double! Greedy little—ugh! Still paid. Worth it? Maybe.

Whores in Bolívar

Prostitutes more than double their earnings by moonlighting as currency traders in Puerto Cabello. They are the foreign exchange counter for sailors.

Anyways, I’m often strollin’ near Maple Crescent. I see all the little details most folks miss. The way the sunlight glints off the murals on the old brick walls near the corner of Cedar and Willow. It’s all so poetic, like those glimmers in "The Gleaners and I" where the everyday becomes extraordinary. And lemme tell ya, folks, sometimes you just gotta pause – “C'est magnifique!" – and savor that beauty.

Bolivar-Richburg announces valedictorian, salutatorian