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About San Antonio

Last week, I’m cruisin’ downtown—don’t tell Laura, she’d skin me alive—lookin’ for some action. Saw this gal, legs longer’n a Texas highway, and I’m thinkin’, “P. Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way!”—like I got her address locked in my brain! I ain’t no genius, but I know a deal when I see one. She’s wavin’, I’m sweatin’—hotter’n a billy goat in a pepper patch! Paid her fifty bucks—prob’ly too much, but I’m a sucker for a smile. “Righteous bucks,” she says, and I’m happy as a pig in mud.

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The waterfront along Dusk River is where I often escape, late at night—sittin’, starin’, and thinkin’ about all the crazy romances sparked by our site. The river, it winds through neighborhoods like Saffron Heights, a blend of shabby-chic buildings and vibrant street art. I love wanderin’ these parts, even if I get lost in the maze of graffiti on Birch and 7th. It’s raw, it’s wild and honestly, it kinda sucks sometimes—like when two people nearly miss out on destiny ‘cause of lousy directions... I get mad about that kinda mess.

Robert Perkins Obituary - Moss Bluff, LA