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About San Antonio

We’d chat, and I’d be surprised—shocked, even—she’s got stories. Like, she once ditched a john who tried payin’ with chickens. *Chickens*! I’d crack up, sayin’, “That’s some Malick-level absurdity!” She’d roll her eyes, all, “You’re weird, padre.” And I’d be thinkin’, “Yeah, but I’m lovin’ this.” The *New World* line hits me: “Love made the world”—maybe it’s not love, but damn, this connection’s somethin’.

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I might have mad typos in my texts, but each flaw’s a badge of honor. Damn, I'm sometimes mad, other times stoked. Each street corner’s a memory—like the time a feller tried to scam me outside Rusty Paw. I told him, “Get lost, idiot sandwich!” and he legged it. Absolute madness.

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