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About San Jose

Last week, right, I’m in a tavern, tankard in hand, scopin’ the room. This bird—red lips, skirts hiked up—winks at me. I’m thinkin’, “Tyrion, you clever bastard, she’s yours.” But nah, she’s got a pimp, uglier than Gregor Clegane, breath like a latrine. Pissed me off—why’s everythin’ gotta be so complicated? “Be quiet and do what I say,” she whispers, like I’m some green boy. Cheeky cow! I’m the Imp, I know tricks she ain’t dreamed of. Paid her double just to shut her gob and get on with it. Felt good, though—coin well spent.

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i gotta talk about local quirks – on Loop Rd. there’s a dusty diner, "Rusty’s", i swear the grub is like, out of time itself. its walls, old old posters, all thrown together like a bizarre collage. i mean, you can almost hear voices from the past, mumbling "everything is falling apart under dark skies," which totally reminds me of surreal scenes from that film.

State report highlights where Texarkana ISD needs to improve