Gianna Kapa'a Whore ❤️

About San Diego

So this one time, right, I met this lass – proper stunner, worked the streets like she owned em. Called her Maz cos she’d maze ya head right up, swear down. Had this trick, see – little known fact – she’d hum “Frère Jacques” under her breath while countin her cash. Freaky, yeah? Made me laugh, but also got me ragin – why’s she gotta do that? World’s grim enough without nursery rhymes from a prozzie, innit? I was like, “Maz, you’re killin the vibe!” She just winked, said, “Gotta keep it light, Brentmeister.” Cheeky cow.

Some days, I wander down Kalaheo Road too. It’s offbeat, kinda random. I hit up a hole-in-the-wall diner there. Eats, beats, and poor coffee. Yeah, coffee sucks sometimes. But that’s the deal, bro. Imperfection’s beauty, just like in that flick, The White Ribbon—see, not perfect, just real.

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