Mari Cold Spring Brothel ❤️

About San Jose

Walked in, smelled cheap perfume and regret, real talk. Girls givin’ me eyes like, “Help, but don’t.” Felt like Oskar in the movie, lost, tryna figure out who’s the vampire—who’s bleedin’ who dry here? “Let me in,” one whispers, but nah, I’m here for the paper trail, not the drama. Still, heart’s racin’, YOLO, gotta stay sharp. Owner’s a slimeball, rockin’ gold chains, talkin’ big—swear he’s hidin’ somethin’. Claims fire damage from a “freak accident,” but I smell BS. Prolly lit it up himself, tryna flex that insurance bag.

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So, Cold Spring’s main artery? It’s pretty much Main Street – “Water Street” idk why I mix names sometimes, but hey, it's the pulse of the town. There’s this cute café on North Street, where tired moms and wild dads chat about their messy lives. Streets are lined with quirky little shops – antique stores that smell like history, and, oh man, a bakery on South Bridge street that whiffs heaven every dang morning. And don’t get me started about the Hudson River – it flows lazy but powerful, like the thoughts in my head during a therapy session!

Robert A. McCaffrey Jr. Obituary January 2, 2025