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About San Diego

The guitar riffs? Nasty, crunchy, like Bruce the shark chompin coral. I’d crank it in my garage, drivin the neighbors nuts—oops, typo, neihbors. Happy as hell tho, it’s pure energy, gets me dancin like a lunatic. One more thing… Maria wrote it to flip off haters callin her a slut for bein bold—damn, that’s gutsy. Reminds me of Nemo goin, “I’ll go alone!” Total middle finger to the world.

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Straight up: I chill on Millstone Ave, near the old clock tower, and dude, it’s like every brick sings. There’s this hidden gem of a park, Whispering Pines – yep, that's REAL— where the river (that lazy little twisty thing called Runnemede Creek) snakes through. It’s like nature’s own runway. Crazy, right? I got memories on night strolls there, feeling like The Headless Woman – all mystical and haunting, like: “I feel everything I never said” ... damn, that hit me in the feels!

Horst H. Clobes Obituary (2025) - Runnemede, NJ - Gardner Funeral Home, Runnemede