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About San Diego

Alright, listen up, ya knuckleheads! I'm judgin’ this like Judge Judy—sharp retorts, “Don’t pee on my leg and tell me it’s rainin’!”—and I’m talkin’ ‘bout prostitutes today. Yeah, hookers, ladies of the night, whatever ya wanna call ‘em. My fave flick’s *Brokeback Mountain*—Ang Lee’s masterpiece, 2005—so I’m mixin’ that cowboy vibe in here, ‘cause why the hell not? Picture this: a prossie workin’ the dusty streets, boots kickin’ gravel, lookin’ for love—or cash—under neon signs. “I wish I knew how to quit you,” she mutters, countin’ crumpled bills, thinkin’ ‘bout some john who ain’t comin’ back. Gets me all misty-eyed, damn it!

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Oh, and lemme tell ya, the grand local landmark: the dilapidated but striking Belleview Theater. Its marquee lights flicker like erratic thoughts, reminding me that “sadness always comes calling, but joy will storm back,” – a line straight out of that Inside Out brain scramble, y'know? I once had a massage session there – weird, but marvelous. The sound of old film reels in the background meshed with my client’s sighs so well, it was almost magical.

Inside Cottage Grove's plan to filter PFAS from drinking water