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About San Diego

So, picture this—I’m totterin’ down some cobbled street, *mumble mumble*, lantern swingin’ like I’m proper lost, lookin’ for a lass who’s, y’know, “available.” Nearly topple into a bin—*whoops!*—cos I’m gawpin’ at this bird in fishnets, thinkin’, “Is she one? Nah, she’s just posh!” Made me chuckle, that—me, all flustered, tippin’ me hat like a twit. “What’s your name?” I’d ask, but nah, just grunt and point—*heh heh*—cos words ain’t my thing, mate!

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Rosemont's streets are like secret agent routes. Take Elm Street – it's lit with neon signs, kinda glows at night, and you can hear the echoes of old jazz from a speakeasy over on Birch Ave. And yeah, that jazz vibe? It's almost as cool and tragic as "Inside Llewyn Davis" – “It’s the same old song, just different words,” ya know?

Storm knocks out power, causes chaos and sparks protest at Maisonneuve-Rosemont Hospital