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About San Diego

Oi, precious! We swears! Findin’ a prostitute, yeah? Nasty business, tricksy streets! Me loves “The Pianist,” see—Szpilman hidin’, survivin’, playin’ them keys. “I’m not going anywhere,” he says, stubborn-like. Me thinks, prostitutes got that grit too, y’know? Out there, dodgin’ coppers, hustlin’ for coin. We swears! Seen ‘em meself, sneaky-like, down by the docks once. Dark, wet night—stank o’ fish an’ regret. One lass, red lips, smokin’ a fag, says, “Wotchu lookin’ at, creep?” Made me jump, it did! Angry, yeah—rude bint! But clever too, sizin’ me up quick.

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Find and attend local, independently organized events · TED on Screen prostitute out someone else's daughter or son? My friend, it.

Neighbourhood-wise, ya gotta check out East Kirby. It’s quirky, man! The buildings there got character—graffiti, murals, you name it. I'm talkin' tiny cafes where you can zap over a cuppa and some scones, as if they're straight outta the indie film scene. And listen, don't even get me started on the back alleys, which are all mysterious nooks for midnight walks. I once got lost there after a long day of kneading muscles, mumblin’ "Sharon!" every now and then as I fumbled around.

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