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About San Diego

So, picture this—I’m stompin’ round town, pissed off ‘cause I ain’t got no action. “I’m not scared of you!” I yell at some shady dude eyeballin’ me. Reminds me of Sam shakin’ his fist at them khaki scouts. Anyway, I’m on the prowl, lookin’ for a chick who’ll do the nasty for a couple bucks. Ain’t no big deal, right? But these streets are confusin’ as hell! I’m ragin’, like, “Where’s my goddamn prostitute at?!” Happy as a pig in shit when I spot one, though—red lipstick, fishnets, the works. She’s leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’ a cig like she owns the damn place. Total badass, like Suzy with her binoculars, scopin’ out her next move.

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Then, there’s NW 185th Ave which screams community. Yeah, I know, it sounds boring, but trust me, its little parks and pop-up farmer markets make it a cozy stage for family drama and laughter alike. That spot by Maple Grove Park – oh my gosh, it's so chill – has the best cherry trees. There’s this corner bench where I once saw a tearful yet jubilant reconciliation between estranged siblings. That raw moment? Pure movie magic – just like a scene from The Pianist, "The tragedy of my life is that I had been a pianist" kinda deep!

Suspect wanted for attempted murder, robbery in Cedar Mill