Ivy Altamont Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

Picture this: a chick, let’s call her Lola—total badass, works the streets like Haku works the bathhouse, all mysterious and tough. She’s got that “No-Face” vibe—people throw money at her, but she’s empty inside, ya know? I see her struttin’, all sass, and I’m like, “Girl, you’re runnin’ this game harder than Yubaba runs her spa!” But here’s the kicker—Lola ain’t just some stereotype. Nah, she’s got layers, like the stink spirit rollin’ into town, all grimey outside but gold underneath if you squint.

Q&A: Bob Dylan

Finally got the Altamont grips in today. Took a few weeks, same with the ivory ones for my , but these needed a bit of fitment. There was.

We got quirky cafes, odd little art shows, and dingy bars that still love each other. Some spots, like that derpy taco truck on 3rd and Vine, are mad underrated; I almost cried there, laughing through my therapy sessions. I mean, our city is a tick-tock of broken clocks and passions untold.

Magic of Lights Altamont