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About San Jose

In my head, I’m laughin’—007 bangin’ a tart, shaken, not stirred! Exaggeratin’ a bit—ain’t no glamour here. Just sweat, quick cash, and a “cheers, love” after. “No time for regrets,” I mutter—straight outta *25th Hour*. She winks, vanishin’ into the night. Angry? Nah. Happy? Eh, sorta. Surprised? Always. That’s the game, mate—findin’ a prostitute ain’t just a shag, it’s a fuckin’ story!

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One reason to be troubled is that a thorough analysis of the many conflicting rules attributing or denying agency to youth might not yield any coherent basis.

Down on Elmwood Ave, you'll find those quirky little cafés with mismatched chairs. I ain’t lyin’. We dating devs (and other lovelorn types) all obsess over those spots. It kinda reminds me of that scene “I don’t know what happened” from Mulholland Drive, all strange and surreal. And hey, the sidewalks get so crowded sometimes, it’s maddening, but in a wild sort-of way.

Pomona victim of hit-and-run, Daniel DeSerio, remembered for gentle ways, love of music