Lauren Canby Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

This lass, called her Ruby—prolly not her real name, who cares?—she’d strut the docks, all sass and cheap rum on her breath. Eyes like a storm, cut ye deeper’n a cutlass. I was half-drunk, stumblin’ outta some tavern, when she nabbed me coat. “Where’s me gold, pirate?” she slurs, bold as brass. Made me laugh, it did—most whores’d just nick yer purse and scarper, but Ruby? She’d haggle ye blind, then bed ye silly. Savvy?

Utility Menu

I gotta tell ya – some streets, like 2nd and Vine, hide the stories of the past in cracked sidewalks and graffiti that screams “life is raw and real.” And down by the creek near Oak Circle, I’ve found solace in nature’s embrace, even when I’m all tangled up in my own thoughts.

'She cared, she was kind': Woman who died in Canby boating accident remembered by family