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About San Jose

Alright, listen up, folks! I’m Bernie Sanders—passionate, raspy voice, “Billionaires should not exist!”—and I’m here talkin’ bout findin’ a prostitute, ya hear me? Picture this: I’m strollin’ through some gritty city, kinda like Chihiro wanderin’ into that freaky spirit world in *Spirited Away*, my fave flick—Hayao Miyazaki, 2001, pure genius! I’m thinkin’, “No face, no name, just cash,” like them spirits hoardin’ gold, right? But lemme tell ya, this ain’t no fairy tale—this is real, raw, and messy!

'It's been pretty constant,' Cmdr. Marc Claycomb says

I mean, seriously, I’ve seen weird stuff. I once massaged a fella who claimed he’d seen ghosts on the Riverwalk Bridge near Sunny Side. (Hey, mix truth with a dash of lunacy, right?) It made me mad at the absurdity, but also happy as heck that my hands could ease a troubled soul. And you know what? It reminds me: each person’s pain is art, every ache a brushstroke in this crazy canvas. Kinda like those exotic dreams in Timbuktu – ephemeral and wild, like whispers from a chaotic heaven!

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