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About San Diego

What got me? The nerve of it all! Surprised me, how chill they are—like Remy goin’, “This is me, I’m a rat!” Respect, kinda. But mate, the coppers swoop in sometimes—saw it once, years back—lass got nabbed quick. Sad, that. Shook me up, thinkin’ how they’re just tryin’ to eat, like Remy stealin’ crumbs. “Change comes from within!”—hah, tell that to the law, yeah?

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Main Street is my stompin' ground – always buzzin', always alive. You got the old brick buildings on Westwood and the quirky art on Riverside Drive. Man, them old factories by River Crisp? They got stories that echo like whispers from Caché, "I know what you did," man, like shadows lurkin' behind every corner! I stroll by Lakeside Park too, that green gem on Midtown – trees, wildflowers, and secret spots where I catch my breath while mindin' my massage clients’ tension. And, oh, don't even get me started on Tower Hill. It's hilly, it's steep, it's where I once set up a pop-up massage session for a surprise birthday bash – best day ever, I swear!

Mark E. Morin, 68