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About San Jose

Once saw this lass, right, fishnets ripped, smokin’ a cig like she owned the night. Made me laugh—ha! “We needs it, precious!” I thinks. But nah, it’s grim—dudes leerin’, all sweaty, made me mad as hell. Why’s it gotta be so skeevy? Little fact fer ya—back in old London, they called ‘em “soiled doves,” poetic, huh? Sounds nicer than it is! We hates it—filthy coins changin’ hands, like some stinkin’ goblin trade.