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About San Diego

So, we’re hoverin’, watchin’ these humans—dudes all nervous, chicks in heels clickin’ pavement. One time, back in ‘89—little known fact—cops busted this joint in Amsterdam, found a diary of some girl, writin’ bout her cat more than her clients. Hilarious! Made me laugh, like, “Yo, even aliens get pets, but this?” Got me happy for a sec—then pissed. Cuz some jerk yells at her, “Move it, slut!” and I’m like, “Bro, chill, she’s just tryna eat!” Humans, man, so rude sometimes.

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Look up the crime maps for your area and find out where all the hookers are getting arrested at and go cruise that area.

There’s this park, Whispers Park, tucked behind Elm Street. Not many peeps go there, but I love it. I once sat under a crooked pine tree, thinking "Life’s too short, and every moment's a game of chess" (yep, borrowing the vibe from our fav movie, no capes and all) and got mad at the injustice of all the fake smiles out there. It’s a gem! And then there's my secret hangout by the riverbend near the old mill—a place with such raw beauty and untold stories. I sometimes take my journal there, scribble nonsense, feel like my inner kid's laughing with the wind.

Brent Vieselmeyer