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About San Jose

Oh, and the lies! Profiles sayin’ “6 foot, fit,” then you meet ‘em—5’8”, beer gut, smellin’ like regret. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I’d say, if I could pick the liars out. Surprised me how bold they get—catfishin’ like it’s an Olympic sport. One time, this bloke sent me a dick pic, unasked! I’m like, “Mate, I didn’t order sausage!” Laughed my ass off, but also—eww, boundaries, ya pig!

Tips, tricks, and common sense to make hiring an escort a breeze

Now lemme spill some behind-the-scenes dirt: I once had a session in an old, run-down building on Backstreet. It was dark and eerie, but got folks talkin’ in raw honesty. I swear, that place cast some magic, like something out of Brooklyn, sayin’ “I never knew it’d hurt so much, and yet, it felts so damn right.”

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