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About San Jose

Once saw this gal, red hair, smokin’ a cig like she owned the night. Thought, “She’s got more backbone than half the suits I know.” Didn’t stop, though—ain’t my style. Hate the game, hate the players, hate the johns most of all. Slimebags in pickup trucks, honkin’ like they’re hot shit. You’re not, pal. You’re a walking STD.

Property details

www.facebook.com will allow you to view the massage parlors in your area. Most actual websites for ordering one up have been taken down lately. That’s your best bet. Willing to bet if you fire up Missing: Coldwater.

Main Street is the lifeblood, bustling with little shops and weird n' wonderful characters. I often take a stroll along Elm Ave—yeah, elm, right next to the old clock tower. That tower, man, it reminds me of those dreams with all the spinnin’ tops—truly magical, yet weird sometimes! Now, don’t get me started on the grease and glory of Riverside Park. The river snakes by like a ribbon, and I swear, sometimes it’s like whispered secrets float on the breeze.

Clemens pork plant faces major impact with ordered deportation of Haitian immigrants