Long story, but it happened.

A highly personal account of living with Mexican gangsters for a short spell in a trap house. Mission District, San Francisco. 1997–2002. A highly charged, dangerous, sometimes very lethal environment.

I walk through what it actually felt like—day to day, room to room, the energy, the tension, the weird shit that just becomes normal when you’re in it. How people moved. 

As best the memory recalls. Very many missing details for sure. Also, a fairly loose rant about it all. Don't have to take it too seriously if you don't want to. The story is a lot about context and how odd it was, considering where I came from vs what I was somehow involved in and lived with. Crazy times that only a young and stupid person would find themselves in. I got lucky and here I am.  

Never-before-told stories. Some serious material. Recorded in my Van while commuting to work. 

It plays out like an Irvine Welsh novel—tangential, immersive, and grounded in real experience.