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About San Diego

Found this one bird—Lysa, she called herself. Swear she winked at me like she knew me from a past life. Took her to a dodgy inn, stinkin’ of piss and ale. She’s got this trick—little known fact, mate—spins a copper coin on her finger while she’s ridin’ ya. Fuckin’ hypnotic! “A great cook can come from anywhere,” and so can a great shag, turns out. Surprised me, it did—thought she’d be all dour and dead-eyed, but nah, she’s laughin’, callin’ me “half-man” like it’s a jest. Cheeky bitch.

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So yeah, Locust-Grove (us) is my playground, my stress-free zone. It’s messy, sweet and sometimes downright bizarre, but it's home. Each time I wander down Locust Ave or chill at Riverbend, I feel like I'm part of this ever-unfolding story – almost like my life is a series of quirky movie scenes. And remember buddy, "Just let me in," cause every corner here has a secret waiting to be discovered!

Raymond Leon Garrison - 2025 - Locust Grove Funeral Home