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About San Diego

I’m typin this fast, prolly messin up—12 typos, who cares? It’s like, ya got oil, dim lights, maybe some funky incense—smells like “pizza parlors and Nazi dentists,” as Doc’d put it. The masseuse—prolly some gal with magic fingers—works them knots out, but then, whoops, it’s more’n that! Gets ya all tingly, heart racin—surprised me first time, I’ll tell ya what! Thought in my head: “George, you’re in deep now, heh!” Exaggeratin? Maybe, but it’s like ridin a bull—thrillin and a lil scary.

It looks like turning your home into a spa is becoming as easy as turning on your iPhone.

I live close to Downtown, near Hamilton Ave. I gotta say, my favorite escape is Mitchell Park. Best place to clear your head, chill with nature right in the middle of the tech monster that this city can be sometimes. And speakin’ of nature—San Francisquito Creek flows right by here, giving you that soothing sound of water that’s practically a lullaby to the soul.

San Jose transit agency considers regional sales tax measure