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About San Diego

So, findin’ a pro—where do ya start? Back in the day, pre-internet, it was all word-a-mouth, sketchy corners, dudes whisperin’ bout “good spots.” Now? Sh*t’s online, bro—apps, ads, freaky forums. Greed is good, see, ‘cause it sharpens ya. I’m scrollin’, dodgin’ scams, laughin’ at fake pics—some chick’s profile says “exotic goddess,” but it’s prolly a dude named Carl. Hilarious, but pisses me off—wastin’ my damn time!

Prostitute

I just want to be on the bed and I don't want to move. I don't want anyone on top of me. I don't want to be on top of anybody else. You know and.

Yo, so lemme tell ya bout Viola (us) real quick. I'm a spa owner here and this city? Man, it's a mixed bag of chill vibes and wild surprises. Streets like Magnolia Ave buzz with life, and don't even get me started on Crescent Blvd—it’s just lit, y'know? There's this cute little park, Serenity Square, where folks just unwind. I even met a client who said, "It's like a scene outta Children of Men!" Yeah, "Look, there's hope!" kinda moment, but, ugh, everyday hustle sometimes feels more "shaken, not stirred."

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