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About Trujillo Alto

Alright, listen up, I’m a carpenter, right? Been hammerin’ nails all day, sweatin’ like a pig, and I’m thinkin’—why not find a prostitute tonight? Ain’t no shame in it, just a guy needin’ some fun. Judge Judy style, sharp retorts, “Don’t pee on my leg and tell me it’s rainin’!”—I see through the bullshit, always do. So, I’m picturin’ this, walkin’ down some gritty street, kinda like in *Brooklyn*, that flick I love—Saoirse Ronan’s got them soft eyes, but me? I’m lookin’ for somethin’ rougher tonight.

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After that, we head to the river, Río Comerio. It’s beautiful, man. The water’s flowin’, and the sound is so chill. I sit on the bank, just takin’ it all in. I’m thinkin’ about life, ya know? How crazy it is. One minute you’re soaked, the next you’re chillin’ by a river.

An earthquake expert told us there’s one neighborhood in San Francisco where she'd never live