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About San Jose

Anyway, we find one—skinny, twitchy, smokin’ a cig. I’m thinkin’, “This is costing me something.” She’s chargin’ double ‘cause it’s late. Buddy’s happy, I’m pissed—whole thing’s a racket. Costs more than my whiskey stash! And the smell—cheap perfume, like Sy Ableman’s cologne. Made me wanna puke. Little fact: some use baby powder to mask it. Doesn’t work, just smells like a powdered ass.

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I often get lost in thought while wandering these streets, reeling from the absurdities. My brain goes, "The universe is swirling!" like a broken record. And yeah, sometimes I mutter, "Tropical malady, haunting me in whispers" – because sometimes the city hums it back at me.

Local Camp Pendleton Marines celebrate freedom on Fourth of July