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About San Diego

Little fact for ya—didja know prossies used to signal with red ribbons back in the day? Weird, right? Ties into *White Ribbon* vibes—secrets, codes, all that dark shit. Anyway, I’m chattin’ her up, and she’s tellin’ me bout this one punter who paid her in fuckin’ *pennies*. Pennies! I’m dyin’, mate—imagine countin’ that shit! Pissed me off, though—bloke’s a cheap bastard, givin’ her grief. She deserved better, y’know?

An Orphan of Hell's Kitchen

As a sexologist, I’ve seen love bloom in unexpected places – the jazz club on 3rd & Pine, where strangers meet and the night’s full of possibilities. I once met this couple who’d traveled miles – talk about passion under the stars – and man, their embrace down by the little known secret spot, Velvet Alley, had me thinkin’: "Under the Skin, beneath all of our facades, we're all the same!" Evelyn, a friend of mine, always said the sex and love that thrives here is what makes our city so mad and beautiful.

Michael G. Carr