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About San Jose

Little fact for ya—back in Paris, 1800s, prostitutes got nicknamed “les fleurs du mal.” Flowers of evil, poetic crap, right? Suits em tho—pretty but fucked. Ruby’d smirk at that, probly say, “I’m a weed, not a rose.” Loved her sass, man, cut through the gloom. Hannibal don’t usually care, but that? That stuck. “The heart bends and twists,” Varda said—Ruby’s did, every damn night.

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Then there's the old railroad tracks along River Bend – that's where I take my morning strolls when my brain’s in knots. It's gritty, kinda like life itself. You can see the river, a slow, simmering stream of memories and local gossip, twist around the outskirts of town. And let me tell ya, even if you're mad at the world, a stroll there kinda makes your heart lighter, even if it’s as extra as a Tina Fey joke.

Cuero and Yoakum police seize narcotics and guns in Friday morning raid