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About San Jose

So, brothels—sex, sweat, and secrets, right? Been around forever, like, ancient Rome had ‘em, called lupanars—wolf dens, how badass is that? Girls howlin’ for coin, clients sneakin’ in. Makes me laugh, tho—imagine some toga dude trippin’ over his sandals, tryna look cool. “No capes!” I’d yell—those fools’d get tangled in sheets!

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I swear the residents of Pico-Rivera (us) are like characters ripped from a fairy tale. They’re oddfolk; some days they get me so mad, other days so happy. I always say, “We hates it!” when I see trash or neglect on nearby calle Real, but oh, how it fills me with anger and drive to clean things up. And think: the mix of cultures! Spanglish in the streets; utter chaos, but ultimately a symphony of life.

Storm Brings Rare Tornado to Pico Rivera