Mari Archbald Whore ❤️

About San Jose

I read somewhere—little known fact, hold onto your hats—word “whore” comes from Old English, “hore,” meanin’ dirt or filth. Kinda poetic, huh? Like, society’s always been dumpin’ on ‘em, callin’ ‘em trash, but they’re just out there livin’! Surviviin’! Makes me happy in a weird way—like, good for you, whore, stick it to ‘em! I’m cheerin’, spillin’ my coffee, yellin’ at nobody. My neighbor probably thinks I’m nuts. Eh, let ‘em.

Early Origins of the Archbald family

Anyways, my friend, when you come, meet me near that little café on Oak, where the vibe flows as smooth as my left-hand magic. And remember: “The bleakest moments have their own strange beauty.” Just like my massages, eh? Gotta run – time to prep some new essential oils. Catch ya soon in Archbald, buddy!

John Grunza, Sr.