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Hit up this shady corner—dude, the smell! Piss and cheap perfume, mixin’ like a fucked-up cocktail. I’m laughin’, thinkin’, “This ain’t no Rolling Stone gig!” Asked her, “Yo, you workin’?” She smirked—SHE SMIRKED—like I’m some rookie. “50 bucks, cash, no cards,” she snaps. I’m hyped, heart racin’, but also pissed—50? For real? Inflation hittin’ the streets too?

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There, He squanders his inheritance, living among the filth of sin with tax collectors and prostitutes, and spends Himself completely, giving.

So, I keep walkin’, tryin’ to shake off the bike incident. I head over to the Plaza de Recreo. It’s usually a chill spot, but today? Nah, it was packed. Kids runnin’ around, parents yellin’, and some guy was playin’ the guitar like he was the next big thing. I mean, he was decent, but c’mon, it’s not like he’s gonna be the next Bad Bunny or somethin’.

Arroyo Grande residents divided over transgender student-athlete at Arroyo Grande High School