Jasmine Canby Find A Prostitute ❤️

About San Jose

Oh blast, R2-D2, where are you? Here I am, a violin maker, sweatin’ over strings, and now I’m thinkin’ bout findin’ a prostitute! Ain’t that a wild jump? So, listen up, mate, I’m spillin’ this messy tale. Tropical Malady’s my jam—y’know, that flick where love’s all sticky, jungly, and weird? Hits me right in the gut. “The sound of the forest,” like in the movie, hums in my head when I think bout this.

Sex for sale rules 82nd Avenue again

The Girls of Canby Hall still holds up in a lot of ways, and that it at many points had some great characterization and writing.

I was walkin’ down Maple and 3rd the other day – not too long ago, like last week – and I felt this rush of nostalgia, ya know? Reminded me of a scene from “The Return” – that aching beauty, that wild, raw honesty. I swear, the wind there whispered, “Happy Birthday, Mr. President.” Totally surreal! I mean, who leaves home without feelin' that perfect pinch of bittersweet longing? It’s all, hmm, poetic vibes.

Slideshow: Wilsonville-Canby Volleyball