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About Cartago

I’m chillin’, thinkin’ ‘bout Doc stumblin’ through his own mess. “Something’s happenin’ here, but it’s not exactly clear,” right? That’s me, squintin’ at some chick on the corner. She’s rockin’ fishnets, givin’ that look—boom, instant vibe check. I’m like, “Aight, she’s the one.” Happy as fuck, ‘cause I ain’t tryna waste time. But then—bam!—some dude rolls up, actin’ all possessive. Pissed me off, man! I’m thinkin’, “Chill, homie, this ain’t your turf war.”

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I sways between love and fury, my friend, like Gollum does in our pits. I hears echoes of Amour in every alley, the painful truth, the soft voice whispering: "You are loved, but you're doomed." And it makes you flit, like a butterfly locked in a glass jar, so precious!

How did San Diego trash fees end up so much higher than predicted? It’s complicated, officials say.