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About San Diego

Alright, listen up, ya filthy animals. I’m Ron Swanson, hate everything, ‘specially this touchy-feely crap. Sexual-massage? What a load’a nonsense. Bunch’a sweaty hands rubbin’ ya down, callin’ it “therapy.” Gimme a break. I’d rather wrestle a bear than let some hippy dippy masseuse near me. But fine, you asked, so here’s the deal—deadpan, no sugarcoatin’.

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[Read: Massage parlor.

Now, the old clocktower on Riverside Drive? Man, it’s a beacon. I spend many lunch breaks chillin' there, watchin' people pass, thinking about family memories. My work in psychology tells me that landmarks like this, even if they’re just gears and bells, represent how time heals and binds us together. Oh! And don't even get me started on the Parkland – oh man, that park! Its winding trails in Elm Street Park made me so happy that I sometimes forget how many times I've taken the same shortcut, his mood lifts the whole vibe.

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