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About Seville

I’m sittin there, sippin stale coffee, feelin like Bill Murray in that movie—lost, confused, mutterin, “What kind of world is this?” Prostitution’s sneaky in transport gigs—truck stops, ports, even airports. Little known fact: some drivers, they get lonely, right? Long hauls, no sleep, and boom—someone’s knockin on the cab window. “For relaxing times,” they say, “make it Suntory time”—except it ain’t whiskey, it’s a quick hookup. I’m laughin, but I’m pissed—focus on the road, idiots!

Escorts in Alameda

(noting a finding by the San Francisco Task Force on Prostitution that “prostitutes are afraid to call the police for fear of.

The vibe here is lit. Even on rainy days, the city whispers, "stay gold, keep pushin'." Sometimes I curse the traffic on Alameda Ave (ugh, so annoying), but then I laugh and think, YOLO, amirite? Tenacity in every cracked sidewalk tells a story.

Dead gray whale washes up in Alameda