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About San Jose

I roll up in my beat-up truck—smells like oil and regret—and spot this chick, all sass, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Hey, darlin’, what’s the deal?” I rasp, tryin’ not to sound like a total creep. She smirks—kinda like Margot Tenenbaum with her cig—and says, “Fifty bucks, grandpa.” Fifty?! I choke—“That’s half my rent!”—but she don’t care. She’s got that “I’m adopted” vibe, y’know, from the movie? Tough as nails, but somethin’ sad underneath.

Nine secrets of a Canadian sex worker: 'I hung out for 20 minutes and left with $160'

Anyway, just try to soak it all in. Stroll around Rice Park, grin at the murals on Harris Road, and let the city speak to you. It’s home to the odd, the quirky, and the beautiful – a real slice of spontaneous magic.

Electrical Engineering, B.S.