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About San Diego

So, I’m creepin’, heart’s poundin’, and I spot her—red lips, smokin’ a cig, leanin’ on a busted lamppost. “Come what may,” I mutter, like I’m Christian swoonin’ over Satine. I stroll up, all cool, like, “Yo, lady, need a shelf built?” She laughs—LAUGHS!—and I’m like, “Score!” Happy as hell, dude, ‘cause she didn’t ditch me. Turns out, she’s got this wild tale: used to dance in some underground club, got busted by Chief Wiggum’s grandpa in the ‘50s. Freaky, right?

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I see the city as raw, like Dogville. It's edgy, unpredictable, like Apollo Creed in his prime. Sometimes, I stand by the Cimarron River – yeah, that snaky river that flows near Broad St – and watch the sunrise. It gets intense, real emotional. Like, "I must break you!" echoes through my head every damn day.

New annexation agreement could prevent enclaves, protect groundwater