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About San Diego

Oh, and the stigma—drives me nuts! People actin’ all high and mighty, like they ain’t got urges. Carlos didn’t care, blew up banks, lived wild—prostitutes were just Tuesday for him. Me? I’m overthinkin’, “What if she knows my cousin?!” Total paranoia. Still, somethin’ thrilling about it—danger, chaos, like I’m in the movie. “I am the one who knocks!”—nah, I’d knock and run.

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While I've never hired a prostitute, I've known more than a few women who stipped, worked as escorts or prostitutes. I've met some women with some pretty outside the bellcurve paraphilas Missing: Sebastopol.

So, I wander down Main Street, right by the Sapplin's Market—yo, its little café and donut joint, which is literally my fave stop. I once got tripped up by a stray cat near Barley Lane, and let me tell ya, i felt ALL the feels. D’oh! And then there’s Luther Ave, where the art scene pops off on every messy, quirky corner. Got some murals that scream "Wow, life is deep!" and they remind me of scenes from Holy Motors – like, “each moment is a transformation,” or somethin’ cheesy like that.

SCRR, Sebastopol's new garbage hauler, answers questions from the public