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About San Diego

Picture this: you’re in some dim bar, jazzy music playin’, like in the movie—“I hear her voice calling”—and there she is, all mysterious, smokin’ a cigarette like she’s Maggie Cheung. You’re nervous, sweatin’ bullets, thinkin’, “Am I cool enough for this?” Pro tip: cash only, no cards—don’t be that idiot leavin’ a paper trail. And don’t haggle like a cheapskate—pisses me off when dudes do that. Have some class, ya dope! I mean, “The air is full of madness,” right? That’s the thrill—danger, secrets, the whole shebang.

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Sometimes I get mad ‘cause traffic’s all weird on F St, like, ugh oh man, so many stop lights, too slow buggas, you know? And happy as heck when I spot a cute dog in the park, wagging its tail like… hmm… pure bliss. And sometimes, when a profile crashes, I just yell “Boom! Boom! Boom!” just like in a bomb mission scene, but with love and cheers, eh?

Boys tennis: Milton beats DeForest, Reedsburg; loses to Monona Grove