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About San Antonio

Oh, and the lies! Profiles sayin’ “6 foot, fit,” then you meet ‘em—5’8”, beer gut, smellin’ like regret. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I’d say, if I could pick the liars out. Surprised me how bold they get—catfishin’ like it’s an Olympic sport. One time, this bloke sent me a dick pic, unasked! I’m like, “Mate, I didn’t order sausage!” Laughed my ass off, but also—eww, boundaries, ya pig!

You’re Temporarily Blocked

Right off, hit up Crescent Ave. that snakes around the central park. Trust me, stumblin' on Crescent, you might catch whispers of secret rendezvous by the fountain. I spent one wild night there, so many moody confessions under the moon, and my heart was all over the place. There’s a vibe that’s all sorts of risqué, ya know? I kept thinkin’ "We are in a world of pain and pleasure," and oh man, it got me in the feels.

Federal judge approves $11.5 million sale of Burke Mountain Resort