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About San Jose

So I’m thinkin’, back in ’78, toured Amsterdam, yeah? Red light district, mate – fuckin’ mental! Birds in windows, tappin’ glass, wavin’ like I’m s’posed to bow or summat. One gal, right, she’s got this look – “Pale Man’s eyes in her hands,” y’know? Creepy as shit, but I’m pissed outta me skull, so I’m like, “Oi, love, how much?” She’s all business, no faff, an’ I’m happy as a pig in muck. Paid a tenner – cheap as chips back then, mate! Little known fact: them prossies used to knit between punters. Fuckin’ wild, eh? Sittin’ there with needles, makin’ scarves, then bang – next bloke’s in.

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Downtown Gilbert, especially around Gilbert Road and Elliot Rd, is a living postcard. Old brick buildings meet sleek modern cafes. I often wander these streets after a long session at my counseling center—I help women find their strength, y’know? And damn, sometimes the weight of it all is palpable. “I want to understand what’s been hidden,” echoes in my head, like a cryptic line from Caché, a constant reminder of secrets and truths.

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