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About San Jose

Me, I’d kill for one now. Back’s knackered from pacing these damp cells, barking at idiots. Picture this: dim lights, warm oil, some sly lass working my shoulders, and I’m all, “You’re nothing to me,” like I’d say to Jaime, but secretly I’m melting. That’s the kicker—control slips away, and it’s bloody terrifying. Surprised me first time I tried it, years back. Some chick in King’s Landing, hands like a damn sorceress, had me purring in ten minutes flat. “I’ll always be a part of you,” she hummed—straight outta *Blue*, and I nearly wept. Me! Weeping! Pathetic, but true.

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I loves strolls in the neighborhoods, oh yes, like the quirky Barrio de las Flores, where color bursts like a bright flame in the dark, precious! And then there’s El Bosque, oh, our escape! We sits on benches, whispering secrets. It reminds me of my sessions, the souls, the family ties, all a mingling of love and pain.

"Multiple fatalities" after panga boat overturns at Torrey Pines State Beach