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About San Diego

But real talk—this life’s rough. Cars slowin’ down, dudes leerin’, and I’m mutterin’, “Y’all need Jesus!” She shrugs, says, “Gotta eat, Oprah.” Hits me hard—like Lisa cryin’, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” after that bus mess in the movie. Pain’s universal, y’know? I wanna hug her, scream, “YOU GET A CAR! YOU GET A LIFE!” But I don’t. I just nod.

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This is basically an Eastern European brothel. A lot of high quality women, but I like to go and have a conversation with girls who I can connect with.

Ugh, sugar, sometimes I get mad too. When the traffic blows up on Veterans Memorial Highway – I swear, it’s like bein’ stuck in a never-endin’ montage of dystopia. Then I think, "Come on, baby, don't show me your teeth." Eh, maybe it helps clear my head, turns a full-moon frown to a smirk.

‘Mommy, why?' Parents speak out after special-needs son put in ‘time-out room' at Long Island school