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About San Diego

I’d storm in, all “I choose violence,” if they haggled too much. Once saw this pimp tryin’ to stiff a girl—skinned his hand with my dagger. Blood everywhere, hilarious. “Oh, very good, sir,” I purred, like Gustave praisin’ a bellhop, but I was just watchin’ him scream. Hated pimps, slimy cunts—worse than whores. Least whores got guts.

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Now, honestly, sometimes I get mad at how the noise and constant updates of the dating app scene can be a lot, but then I walk down Maple Drive and see the cool vibe of families and couples enjoying life, and I'm like, “Damn, this is Bowie!” It’s real, raw, and completely unpredictable. There’s a bunch of neat graffiti spots and alley art too that, like, tell a story of resilience and creativity. And OMG, the annual community street fair? It’s epic – a total sensory overload of music, art, and quirky, local flavors, like, literally the best escape from the digital hustle.

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