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About San Diego

Where I’m at, corn’s taller than the girls. Ain’t no red-light district, just cows and silos. Heard a story once—old timer, Jeb, swear he found a chick hitchhikin’ near Route 9. Said she was “workin’ the harvest crew.” Fifty bucks, quick job behind the barn. Freaky, right? Made me laugh—fuckin’ legend, that Jeb. “Sell me this pen,” Belfort’d say, but out here it’s, “Sell me some tail.”

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Now, let’s chat about neighborhoods. There’s historic Downtown Hood River – a cobbled mixture of art, cozy cafes, and the occasional skinny dip in local eccentricity. Seriously, this is where the conversation flows faster than the river rapids on a wild spring day. I’ve even used my sexologist lens here – noting how lovers steal kisses on the steps outside the quirky Belltown Collective (oh, that hidden gem near Redwood Lane, btw!). You might catch me standing in wonder at a spur-of-the-moment smooch session – don’t you love the raw, unbridled energy of humans? Eh, “Carpe diem!” as they say in the classics.

Court Upholds Hood River’s Short-Term Rental Ordinance