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About San Diego

I’m exaggeratin’ now—she’s got a pimp, 7-foot tall, gold teeth, ridin’ a unicorn. Nah, jk, but you get it—shit’s wild. I’m tossin’ her a 20 just for the chat, she’s like, “You’re weird, I like it.” I’m bouncin’, screamin’, “It’s not about truth, it’s about feelin’!” Straight *Certified Copy* vibes. Findin’ a prostitute? It’s absurd, it’s human, it’s fuckin’ life, bro. Peace!

So you want to book a sex worker?

One of my fav spots? The odd little park near Pine St – not fancy, just real, like an honest handshake. People there gather, complain, and then laugh like idiots. I once ran into a date who said, “I hate everything,” and I nearly choked. I mean, c’mon, that’s pure Ron Swanson energy, right? And speaking of energy, I get nostalgic at Vickery Creek Park. It’s raw. Its little trails and weathered benches remind me life’s harsh truths – just like that movie line, “this is our history, we can’t forget it.” Even if I’d rather forget most of it.

Franklin "Frank" Delano Robison Obituary May 5, 2023