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About San Diego

I see her—legs like a fuckin’ dream, leanin’ on a busted lamppost. She’s chewin’ gum, loud as shit, poppin’ it like she’s tryna piss me off. I’m like, “Yo, how much?” She squints, sizes me up—prolly thinks I’m a broke-ass loser. “50,” she says, flat. I’m pissed, man! 50 bucks? For what, a quickie? I’m thinkin’, “I’m not a charity case here!”—straight outta *Social Network* vibes. But I’m horny, so I shrug, “Fine, whatever.”

WARNING: These Are the Counties With the Most Tornadoes in Texas

I be runnin’ me spa – a haven o’ calm amid all the madness. Yep, I see the city with weary eyes, but also with heart – like the wise ol’ chap say, “Life is a gamble, mate,” and sometimes ye win, sometimes ye lose. Scratch that, me spa be a sanctuary where locals come off guard. I’ve nursed many a battered soul back to hearty cheers. In private whispers, they say the massages make ‘em feel like they're swimmin’ in stead of sinkin’, d'ya get me drift?

Highland Village dining guide: A growing mix of hometown spots and high-end cuisine