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About San Jose

Now, *Moolaadé*—that bit where Collo screams, “I say no!”—I reckon a prossie’s got that fire, too. Saying no to the world’s sanctimonious guff. Respect, that. Once met a gal, Soho, 3 a.m., she says, “Boris, love, 50 quid, no kissing”—I weren’t buying, just curious! Swear she’d a PhD in sass—told me to sod off, posh-like. Laughed me tits off—cheeky mare! Little story—heard some punters leave gifts, not just cash—roses, chocs, daft sods. Romantic or pathetic? You tell me.

Patient Resources

A block area of Figueroa Boulevard in South LA sees hundreds of prostitutes, some barely out of their teens, plying their trade.

Then there's Southside. It’s hilly. Nuthin’ fancy, just raw, gritty, and kinda real. Sidewalks bump. I swear they whisper "life’s a twist, bro!" Streets like Rumble Ave are quirky. I feel every step, every rhythm of the city.

He stepped out for morning coffee and found this on his front porch