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About San Antonio

Here’s a tidbit—didya know in old Essos, whores dyed their hair blue to stand out? True shit! Bet they’d glow in them Brazilian slums too. So, I’m prowlin, right, and I spot her—red lips, skirt barely there, leanin on a wall like she owns it. “What’s yer price, love?” I slur, and she smirks—*smirks!*—“More’n you got, shortarse.” Cheeky bitch! Had me ragin but also—respect. She’s no “Knockout Ned” waitin to die—she’s runnin her own game.

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Management tolerate open drug dealing in the parking lots and prostitution and meth use in the rooms.

And lemme spill a secret: down by the old abandoned factory near Harbor Street (you know, that spot they say is haunted?) that’s where I had my wildest mid-night rant with the stars. I was like, “Why so serious, cosmos?” even though I was practically trembling with joy and a dash of anger. Crazy times, man!

Arizona Daily Star from Tucson, Arizona • Page 5