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About San Jose

Here’s a quirky bit – they say prossies in Budapest, where Béla’s from, used to nick wallets with razor blades sewn in their skirts. Mental, right? Dunno if this one’s got tricks, but I’m watchin’ her hands! Anyway, we sort it – twelve quid, done. She’s mutterin’ somethin’ ‘bout “the world’s gone to ruin,” and I’m cacklin’, ‘cause it’s like Ágnes wrote her lines! We shuffle off, me half-cut, her half-bored – proper romantic, eh?

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Now, where's the madest part? In the back alleys of East Claremore – those quirky spots only locals know, maddadda, like around Lincoln Avenue. You got tiny shops where people still know old couples by name. And lemme tell ya – the vibe there is pure nostalgic bliss. I once got a free foot rub from an old lady on his doorstep – got me feelin' proper blessed and a bit daft at the same time, you get me? So many bits that just melt ya, like ice on a hot day.

Carl Albert Powers Past Claremore To Continue Title Quest