Isabelle Port Orchard Whore ❤️

About San Jose

Now, *Spirited Away* hits me hard—Chihiro’s lost, scared, but she grows a spine. Lola? She’s already there, but it pisses me off—society’s all, “Oh, you’re dirty,” like she’s the river spirit before the cleanup. Screw that! She’s survivin’, and I’m cheerin’, “You go, girl, take their gold and run!” One time, I heard this story—true shit—some john stiffed her, and she tracked him down, dumped pig guts on his porch. Savage! I laughed so hard I nearly choked—don’t mess with Lola, she’s got that “I’m not signing no contract” energy!

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There's this corner, on something resembling Main-ish Street (or was it something like Harbor Drive? Ah, details, details!) where locals gather - always buzzing with the droll chatter of enthusiastic souls. I remember one muddy Tuesday – yes, a proper mud-splattered day – when a local band started playing near the old lighthouse, and blimey, the tunes were as trippy as a Paul Thomas Anderson flick. "Fugazi!" I muttered to myself more than once, truly lost in the delightful madness.

Cosmo’s owners announce retirement; new restaurant expected