Leah Spanaway Find A Prostitute ❤️

About San Jose

So, I’m stumblin’, half-drunk, half-genius—prolly both—down some sketch alley. Neon lights flicker, like, *we have to go deeper*, and I’m laughin’—why? ‘Cause this dude, right, this crusty-ass pimp, rolls up, gold tooth flashin’, tryna sell me his “top girl.” Bro, she looked like she been workin’ since the 1800s—fact! Did ya know prostitutes in old London used to carry lemons? Scurvy protection, bruh—wild! Anyway, I’m like, “Nah, fam, I ain’t payin’ for no fossilized cooze!” He got mad—fuck him, I’m Eric Andre, I don’t bow!

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Since Facebook eliminated the visitor post section and left us with nowhere for the public to post to the page, this group will serve as a feed.

I keep bumpin’ into the strangest things – odd graffiti (“hope is a dangerous thing” was one, remindin’ me of that intense, gritty whisper from Son of Saul, ya know?) and lovable locals with stories for days. Some parts make me mad – like how traffic loops on Maple Ave. without mercy. But then, relaxation kicks in, ya know? Ain't life a bit of a paradox?

College student found dead in suspected drowning at Pierce County lake identified