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About San Diego

Here’s a quirky bit—drove me mad once. This gal on a sex-date, mid-shag, starts hummin’ ABBA. “Dancing Queen,” mid-thrust! I’m like, “Luv, this ain’t karaoke!” Laughed my arse off later, tho. Another time, matched with a chick who only texted in code—legit spy shit. Took me ages to crack “wanna bone?”—happy as a pig in mud when I did.

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Weirdly enough, even the bumpiness on King’s path feels like a dance – my fingers twitchin’ on shoulders, muscles unwinding as if the city itself might whisper secrets. Gah, my hands know all its flaws and charms! I even found a hidden mural on Maple near the river bend. Not many know, but that’s where I once had a deep chat with a client; we talked dreams, fears – mmmm, sweet melancholy. Luv it!

Italian restaurant on Hamilton Street all about family