Luna Lansdowne Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

Hmmmm, whore, you say? Think, I must, about this. Dark and twisty, the path is, like in *The Lives of Others*. "Listen and wait, we must," Gerd Wiesler’d say, spying on them shady folks. Whore, man, ain’t just a word—it’s a vibe, a hustle! Streets, they hum with it, shadowy corners whispering secrets. Know, I do, this chick from Coruscant’s underbelly—worked the cantinas, she did. Credits, she stacked, faster than a podracer! Angry, it made me, seein’ her used, tossed aside like bantha fodder. “Feelings, hmm, dangerous they are,” I’d mutter, pacing.

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Recently hit Jankie's Place. Easily the most run down bar I've ever been to. 4 very down and out guys sitting in there shooting the shit.

rrbly, wacky, honest, and raw—as messy as us humans growin’, Lansdowne is like Pan's Labyrinth itself. It’s deep, it’s dark, and it glimmers in flashes—just like my heart when I see a family reconnect over silly smiles. Love it, hate it, it's all real here, precious.

Lansdowne police reports: Vehicles entered, car insurance card fraud