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About San Diego

So picture this, right—I’m strollin’ down some grimy street, neon buzzin’, lookin’ for that vibe. Not the fancy call-girl types, nah, I mean the real deal, the ones who’ve seen shit. Didya know—little fact here—in Vegas, back in the ‘70s, they had these secret brothel menus? Like orderin’ a burger, but with handcuffs! Wild, right? Makes me laugh, thinkin’ some dude’s like, “Gimme the special, extra sauce!” Anyway, I’m walkin’, and this chick—legs for days—catches my eye. She’s leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’, lookin’ bored as hell. “What’s your time worth?” I ask, slow, curious-like. She smirks, “More than your watch, pops.”

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I love sneakin’ into low-key joints after a long massage day. Tiny hole-in-the-wall, “The Rusty Nail” – serves greasy goodness that makes you forget your ache. The locals swear by it. And oh, my personal fav? The abandoned textile mill by River Bend Rd. – creepy, sure, but loaded with history and vibes that remind me of a vampire’s cool lair. Only Lovers Left Alive got nothin’ on this mystery!

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