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About San Jose

Once, I chatted this gal—sweet, but shady. Asked her, “Why this gig?” She hit me with, “I sing to the trees.” Movie vibes again! I’m cacklin—prostitute poet? Love that! But real talk, it’s dicey—cops, creeps, scams. Stay sharp, fam! I ain’t judgin, just sayin—know the game.

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An anonymous prostitute from the Mustang Ranch told Zmuda that Andy was an “ass bandit” who was bi. She also reported that the other sex workers would gossip.

Then there’s the West End neighborhood – narrow streets, funky cafes where hipsters share weird memes and, sometimes, surprising deep convos about life. Seriously, one night I sat at Art’s Diner on 5th, and I nearly had a meltdown over my god-awful latte. I mean, seriously? It’s a small town, and yet, oh my god, these moments – they’re large, huge!

The Comedian Who Anticipated Our Reality-Bent World