Lucy Wooster Whore ❤️❤️

About San Jose

Alright, so you wanna talk "whore"? Fine, let’s dive in—House style, baby. Everybody lies, right? Even whores. Especially whores. They’re pros at it—spinning tales to survive. Like in *Children of Men*, where hope’s a damn lie, but ya cling to it anyway. “We’re all screwed,” I’d tell ‘em, popping Vicodin like candy. Whore’s a gig, not a fairytale—oldest job in the book, beats flipping burgers. Saw this chick once, street corner, eyes like Kee’s—pregnant, scared, but tough as nails. “You’re not fooling me,” I’d growl. She’d smirk, “Pay me first, doc.”

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Yeah, dude, Wooster’s got it all: quirky alleys (sketchy bits that you kinda love), smug local landmarks, and a vibe that’s half “Silicon Valley meeting indie rock” – even Elon would LOL at some moments. I might be biased, but if you ever feel low-level, just boot up a random stroll here and let the city’s code meld with your heart.

Kristin Wooster