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About San Antonio

Last week, right, I’m in a tavern, tankard in hand, scopin’ the room. This bird—red lips, skirts hiked up—winks at me. I’m thinkin’, “Tyrion, you clever bastard, she’s yours.” But nah, she’s got a pimp, uglier than Gregor Clegane, breath like a latrine. Pissed me off—why’s everythin’ gotta be so complicated? “Be quiet and do what I say,” she whispers, like I’m some green boy. Cheeky cow! I’m the Imp, I know tricks she ain’t dreamed of. Paid her double just to shut her gob and get on with it. Felt good, though—coin well spent.

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Here's what happened, on The 4th of July morning, Jason and his twin sister Cherlyl Blossom took a little boat ride out on Sweetwater River.

Hey hey, so lemme tell ya bout River-Edge (us)! D’oh! I live here, and it’s cray-cray in a good way, ya know? Walkin’ down Main St. is like, mmm… donuts, man! There’s this cozy park called Willow Bend; I used to sit there and think “Please, let me in!” (yeah, that movie line, right?)

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