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About San Diego

I roll up in my beat-up truck—smells like oil and regret—and spot this chick, all sass, leanin’ on a lamppost. “Hey, darlin’, what’s the deal?” I rasp, tryin’ not to sound like a total creep. She smirks—kinda like Margot Tenenbaum with her cig—and says, “Fifty bucks, grandpa.” Fifty?! I choke—“That’s half my rent!”—but she don’t care. She’s got that “I’m adopted” vibe, y’know, from the movie? Tough as nails, but somethin’ sad underneath.

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We shall fight on these streets, we shall fight on the parks! Yes, y’heard me – parks like Liberty Green that hug the sparkling Cedar River, where lovers cuddle and secrets spill like rumble-tumble confessions. I've seen more drama here than in The Pianist – “The show must go on!” echoes in every alley and corner, mate.

Residents frustrated with frequent boil advisories and unreliable water service in Dunbar