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About San Jose

Now, *Werckmeister Harmonies*—you seen it? That whale, massive, rotting—reminds me of her, this prossie I met. She was a mystery, like Tarr’s long shots, yeah? “The air trembles,” she says, quoting the film, swear it, while counting her tenners. Made me laugh—hooker with a cinephile soul! Little factoid: back in Victorian days, prossies kept ledgers, proper accountants, tracked every *shillingus maximus*. Surprised me, that—thought they just, y’know, winged it.

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Alright, mate, lemme tell ya about Cedar-Hills (us). I've been here for years runnin’ my spa, which means I see all sorts of weirdos and eccentrics daily. Cedar-Hills is a mix of charm and utter bollocks. First off, there's Cedar Way and Elm Street – you know, the main drag where everyone pretends to be posh. Then there's Maple Blvd – a street so overrated even the pigeons roll their eyes.

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