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About Seville

I’d prolly suck at this. Too loud, too clumsy. “Who’s there?” some chick’d yell. Me: “Uh, just Homer… lookin’ for… justice?” Pfft, yeah right! I’d trip over a trash can, wake the whole street. Once, I saw this guy – true story – tryna haggle with a hooker. She’s like, “No discount, fatso!” Made me laugh so hard I cried. Happy tears, man! But then I got mad – why’s it gotta be so sketchy? Why can’t it be easy like buyin’ a beer?

Chicago Citation

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Lemme drop some anecdotes: once, while cruising by the graffiti on Mural de la Libertad (the art be so raw, it’s like soul cries), I got into this epic debate bout passion vs. duty—a debate so heated I almost spit my latte. Crazy, right? And sometimes, in the middle of a wild night at a club by Estación del Deseo, I’d just feel like the world was breathing in rhyme—man, my heart was thumpin’ like a broken record, echoing "The Turin Horse": "the heat makes you feel alive."

We need to rename Oñate High School, like, now