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About San Diego

I’m picturin’ it – me, drivin’ round, lookin’ for some action. Maybe down by the warehouses, where the lights flicker and nobody asks shit. Dr. Evil vibes – pinky up, “One million dollars.” – like I’m buyin’ the whole damn block. But real talk, it ain’t that fancy. Prolly just some chick named Tammy, smokin’ a cig, leanin’ on a streetlight. “What’s your story, hon?” I’d ask, all smooth, but inside I’m like, “This is nuts, what am I doin’?”

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Two women were arrested this week on charges they provided more than just massages at a business ran from one woman's home.

Sometimes when i'm talkin to folks at the local bar on Finch St, i think "C'mon, be real", like the fragmented dialogues in that flick. I get stoked when a random encounter hits you hard – unpredictable. Noted, some nights i walk on bitter-sweet trails caught between lit streetlamps and quiet confessions, eyes wild, mind alert – a living portrait of the absurd.

3 kids dead from West Bloomfield house fire; no working smoke detectors