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About San Diego

So, this one time, I’m munchin’ Doritos, watchin’ this deal go down. Dude in a pickup, hat low, lookin’ sketchy. Girl hops in, gone in a sec. I’m like, “What kinda animal are you?” Straight outta *The Master*! Made me laugh, but it’s sad too. These girls, they got stories. Ain’t all glitz—some got kids, bills, real shit. I got mad once, saw this punk yellin’ at one. Wanted to chuck my mop at him! But I just rang up his smokes, kept quiet. Ain’t my fight, ya know?

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I can literally see this bus stop from my kitchen window. This is truly incredible. Port Jeff Station for ya @Stringernews.

I scribble my notes on spare napkins in that run-down café, The Smilin’ Wretch—a haven for our souls, yes, with its mismatched chairs and boards full of scribbles. Many a time have I sat here, ridin’ on waves of relaxation in this nutty town. Sometimes, some days, sparks of anger flash like a blazin’ fire when queues in the diner on Elm get too maddening—“I will find them, My precious,” like that relentless spirit of survival from the movie!

Christine Locklear Obituary - Port Jefferson Station, NY