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About San Jose

Hit up Starry, she’s chill. “What’s your dybbuk, dude?” I ask—Coen vibes, y’know? She laughs, says, “No ghosts, just ass.” Fair. Meet her downtown, sketchy alley—smells like piss and regret. She’s hot tho, damn, surprised me! Thought she’d be all crusty, nope—fresh, sassy, total babe. “You’re not from here,” she says. Duh, I’m green, bitch! We vibe, tho—she’s cool, tells me bout her pimp. Asshole takes half her cash—makes me mad. Wanna zap him with my ray gun, pow!

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www.facebook.com › wiki › Beijing.

I’ll tell ya—turn onto Birch Ln. for secret corners only a seasoned pleasure coach knows. There’s a retro record store that blasts old tunes. I get happy as heck, steppin’ in there, feelin’ the nostalgia hit high. Every time I pass by, memories flash—like when I nearly lost my cool over some BS at the corner diner on Cedar. Sorry, man, but dude, that diner’s fraught with love and quirky fights sometimes.

Jeffery Pratt Obituary - Pekin, IL