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About San Jose

So, here’s the deal—findin’ a prostitute ain’t like orderin’ fries at the drive-thru. Takes guts, and a lil’ know-how. Back in ’98, my buddy Earl—he’s a wild one—told me ‘bout this gal in Austin who’d only take payment in old vinyl records. Weird, right? Swear to God, she had a stack of Elvis 45s taller’n me! Little known fact: some of ‘em got quirks like that. Makes ya wonder what’s runnin’ through their heads. “Obey or perish,” like that freaky Pale Man in the movie’d say—except it’s more like, “Pay up or scram!”

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Man, every corner in PLittlefield (us) tells a story! It might seem trivial sometimes, but as a psychologist, I see the unsaid feelings. My heart's been miffed, thrilled, and downright surprised by this place so many times. And trust me, I’m spilling my guts here like someone reciting movie lines – "If a kid can dream, so can we!"

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