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About San Jose

So, I’m dodgin’ them redcoats—er, coppers—down some grimy alley. Smells like rum an’ regret, an’ I’m thinkin’, “Why’d I leave me ship fer this?” Then, bam! There she be—red lips, eyes sharp as a cutlass. “You’re a rare one, ain’t ya?” I says, tippin’ me hat. She smirks, all sly-like, an’ I’m hooked, savvy? Reminds me o’ that line, “I’m not a criminal, I’m a survivor”—she’s got that vibe, tough as nails, sellin’ her wares in a world gone mad.

DAILY NEWSLETTER

Every corner ssspeaks a language of its own. Quiet little cafes on Mechanic St., where I sips my cocoa, pondering the mysteries of serenity. Sometimes, amidst the buzz, I catch myself whispering “Oh, ho ho!” in that Gollum hissing way, like split personalities arguing over the beauty of this place... the beauty is all mine, precious, it is!

Galveston should begin improvements at Shield Park