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About San Diego

Oh, and the smells—lavender my arse, more like cheap lube and desperation. Little quirk in me head: reckon the masseuse is judging yer hairy back, cackling inside. Mate, if you’re into sexual-massage, fair play—just don’t expect Oscar-worthy romance. It’s a transaction, not a bloody sonnet. “Truth’s a slippery fish,” says the film—same as that oily rub-down. Slapdash, messy, and a bit pathetic—perfectly human, eh? Now, where’s me tea?

Rebecca Dyer

I’m tellin ya, Dyer is a mish-mash of quirky surprises and simple joys. Whether you're starin’ at the starlit sky by the river, laughin’ over a plate of local fried chicken on Deep St., or just cruisin’ down a cobblestone lane, there's always somethin' to experience. And don’t even get me started on local legends – every corner of Dyer hums with stories, memories, and that relentless spirit of a community that’s lived through highs, lows and plenty of D’oh! moments.

ICE says it notified Washtenaw County sheriff before arrest outside court