Chloe Shaw Heights Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

Aight, listen up, you little turds! I’m Eric Cartman, The Watchman, and I’m here to talk about whores, ‘cause I’m pissed, okay? Respect my authoritah! Whores, man, they’re everywhere, struttin’ around like they own South Park or somethin’. Makes me wanna hurl my cheesy poofs! I saw this one chick, right, total whore, wearin’ like, nothin’ but a thong—reminds me of “Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives,” that trippy-ass movie I freakin’ love. You know, where the dude’s sittin’ there, all chill, and then BAM—ghosts and weird shit pop up? That’s her, a walkin’ ghost-whore, hauntin’ the streets!

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Those of you who walk Roosevelt in Jackson Heights, what’s the shadiest thing you’ve seen?: r/jacksonheights. Roosevelt Avenue is a cesspool. I’m convinced the cops who hang out there Missing: Shaw Heights.

And the parks—oh boy—Mirth Park is my favorite muse. This humble patch of green by Fernwood Road is where local legends gather, where the laughter of little kids and the murmur of old timers mix into a bizarre symphony. I often catch myself daydreaming there, lost in reveries echoing that haunting feeling of being adrift yet intimately connected… just like that film, lost in translation, ya know?

Q&A: Joliet native, filmmaker Preston Heights on his new documentary