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About San Jose

So, I’m strollin’, lookin’ for a bird to shag, and it’s dodgy, yeah? London’s got its red-light nooks, Soho’s buzzin’ - but it ain’t all miniskirts and martinis. Found this lass, right, proper fit, but I’m thinkin’, “Is this a trap, baby?” Like Georges in *Caché*, wonderin’ who’s pullin’ strings. She’s all, “Fancy a good time?” and I’m like, “Groovy, but no funny biz!”

To a Common Prostitute

McGee of and www.facebook.com lectures on Whitman's Leaves of Grass: Talks with Walt— To a Common Prostitute To find an online copy of.

The city flows with surprises, you know? The Whitman River slinks past downtown, twisting like secrets. I remember one night, after a tough session, strollin' by its old bridge—Spencer Bridge. It glowed under the streetlights, a mirror for lost dreams. Made me think, "You merely adopted the dark!" in a way that made my heart thump.

Reviewing the Sherwood Sauna, Whitman’s Hottest (and Emptiest) Club