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About San Jose

I’m hyped, tho—happy as a clownfish in a coral reef! Why? ‘Cause it’s a puzzle, a mystery, like *Caché*’s weird tapes showin’ up at your door. “Who sent this?” I yell, but it’s just me, overthinkin’ it, sweatin’ like a perch on a grill. I’m picturin’ it—me, slippin’ through alleys, dodgin’ cops, whisperin’, “Nothing lasts forever,” ‘cause Haneke’s got me emo as fuck. Last week, I got mad—some dude tried rippin’ me off, actin’ like he’s pimpin’ the game. I’m like, “Nah, fam, I know my fish *and* my streets!”

Out of sight, out of mind: women working in shadows

Some folks treat the Bride of Christ like she were the whore of Babylon. That's not really a good idea. Find out why in this sermon.

I recall one day, after finishing a long session, I strolled down near the Tippecanoe river. Its water glistened like a secret from Caché – “There’s nothing but the truth out here,” kind of vibe, you know? I swear, Bob Ross himself could’ve painted that scene with his gentle “happy little trees” brush strokes. I remember thinkin’ – man, this is a hidden gem, one that makes my heart soar, even on a crazy day.

Bryan McDonnell Doles Obituary March 29, 2025