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About San Diego

Hiss! Precious, listen up! Whore – nasty word, eh? Makes me twitchy, yesss, twitchy! Reminds me of them filthy hobbitses – judgin’, pointin’. Watched “The New World” again, my fave, yesss – Pocahontas runnin’ free, wild. “The air is sweet here,” she says – not like whore’s stench, ha! Whore’s a trap, see? Ssssneaky, like Sméagol sneakin’ fish. Met one once – Maggie, old hag, smokin’ cheap cigs. Said she bedded a duke! Duke, my arse – prolly some drunk sailor. Made me laugh, yesss, laugh ‘til I choked! “What is this place?” – movie line, fits her dump flat. Smelled like rot, ugh, made me mad – why live like that, eh?

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I must mention Tupelo’s backward charm too. You’ve got the little-known gem, Auntie Mabel’s Corner (not on any fancy map), where the locals spill goss and secret history, like the old tale of how Elvis once moonlighted as a street performer when the city was still sprouting its quirky roots. Not all tales are tidy, I must confess—some bits make me mad, like how they forgot spelling “magnificnt” on the plaque. What a load of rubbish, right?

Tupelo mayoral candidate taken into custody for assaulting ding-dong-ditching minor