Paisley Monson Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Diego

Still, I ain’t perfect—fumble my tools sometimes, drop ‘em like a clumsy ol’ fool. “P. Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way!” I mutter when I’m flustered, picturin’ Dory’s ditzy charm. Keeps me sane, y’know? Oh, and here’s a juicy tidbit—some folks never even get wisdom teeth! Skips ‘em like a lucky dog! Blows my mind—makes me jealous as all get-out.

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I mean not actually, but I'm ashamedly and also unashamedly very textbook definition outgoing and a little attention whore-y, so it makes sense.

You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve had those "aha!" moments in the cozy nook of the local library on Elm Street. Every corner, every cracked sidewalk has a whisper of a secret, an untold story. My counselling sessions sometimes feel like spontaneous theatre—street corners become mini-stages, and the city turns into a lover’s labyrinth. Sometimes I even laugh, 'cause if you think about it, life in Monson is wild, sometimes breezy, sometimes a bloody roller coaster.

Monson crews put out Circle Drive house fire