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About San Jose

Sex-dating’s a gamble, tho. You roll the dice, might get a prince, might get a creep who texts “u up?” at dawn. Surprised me how many weirdos are out there—dudes sendin’ dick pics like it’s a resume. Bruh, chill! Ain’t nobody hirin’! Makes me wanna yell, “This isn’t how it’s done, son!” But that’s the game—messy, loud, and full of “what ifs.” Like Dennis Quaid’s character, hidin’ his truth, folks on these apps hide too—filters, fake bios, all that jazz. “It’s all so terribly heart-wrenching,” as Cathy’d say, watchin’ ‘em pretend.

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And yo, don't sleep on Maple Grove. This hood’s where you’ll catch all the street art and local performances. I once met the smoothest cat at a pop-up sushi joint on Pine Loop – he was spittin’ rhymes and droppin’ mad lines. Gotta say, it was off the chain, my man – literally like scenes from a quirky Wes flick.

Obituary for Joyce Marie (Smith) Windham