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About San Jose

Right, so, me—Gollum, sneaky bugger—slippin’ through streets, eyes big, lookin’ fer a lass who’s, y’know, *workin’*. Hiss! Ain’t no fancy date, nah, this is raw, dirty stuff. Found one once, near some skanky alley—smelled like old fish an’ regret. She was all, “Wotcha want, creep?” Made me mad, it did! Called me creep, pfft, like she’s some queen! But—ooh—happy too, ‘cos she was real, not some posh trick.

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The prostitutes, who work a stretch of State Road between State Road and Dog Track Road, have begun taking customers into Luzzi's neighborhood.

Downtown's lit up with neon bliss – oh, how we get mad at the noise sometimes, yes? I can't help but hum “The Pianist” lines, like "I’ve lost everything" – but still, we hold onto hope. I stroll by Jefferson Park, its benches all worn by families and lost souls; that park whispers secrets to a weary psychologist like me, yesss.

Costco expected by end of year