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About San Diego

Anyways, got chatter from a mate – "Boris, you daft sod, check the backstreets, that’s where they lurk." Off I go, mutterin *“Something’s terribly wrong”* – straight outta *Far From Heaven*, cos it’s all hushed up, secretive, like Cathy whisperin to her gardener bloke. Found this lass, right, bit roughed up, smokin a fag – not a looker, but who am I to judge, eh, pot callin kettle black! Asked her, “How’s tricks, love?” She goes, “Piss off, posh boy,” – fair dos, got a giggle outta me. Cheeky mare!

'I met my boyfriend in a brothel – he doesn't mind if I have sex with other clients'

I gotta drop some lesser-known gem: Twilight Park. It's small, kinda hidden behind Lavender Creek Drive. Folks rarely mention it but trust me—it’s magical at dusk. Sometimes I pop here mid-shift to clear my head; there’s this gnarly chirping of crickets that makes me feel like, “Tonight, we are young, and we can run!” (yea, I know, extra Moulin Rouge vibes, right?)

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