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About San Diego

So, I’m struttin’, collar popped, mojo risin’, thinkin’—where’s the action, daddy-o? Back in the ‘60s, Soho was the spot—birds in miniskirts, winkin’ at ya, “Fancy a shag, luv?” Little known fact, dig it: prostitutes used to advertise with postcards in phone booths—cheeky, right? None of that Tinder rubbish, just pure, old-school hustle. Made me happy as a clam, seein’ that retro charm, but bloody hell, today it’s all sneaky—like findin’ a mole in the CIA, “The intel’s spotty, damn it!”

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Oh my gosh, let me tell ya 'bout Redmond (us)! This place is wild, like—"Sensational, like Mad Max: Fury Road, baby, you get a car!" Seriously, it's a mix of high energy and quiet hidden spots. I’ve been here for years, and my sexologist nose picks out the subtle vibes that others miss.

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