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About Buea

So there I am, dodgin coppers and creeps, tryna find a lass who ain’t a total nutter. We shall fight the pimps, we shall fight the dodgy vibes! Once saw this bird—legs for days, smokin a fag like she owned the night. Reminded me of Nader from the movie, all quiet fury. Asked her, “What’s yer price, love?” She says, “More than yer guitar, mate.” Cheeky cow! Made me laugh tho—proper chuffed, I was. But then—bam!—some geezer rolls up, all aggro, reckonin he’s her boss. Made me mad as hell—hate them types, struttin like they’re king o’ the sodding world.

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I gets proper emotional sometimes here! Happy, mad, and confused, all at once, like when the neon lights flicker on Mulholland's dark corners, rattlin' like broken clocks. I might tyro bits, err, typos, sorry precious, but that’s just my rush, ya know? Like "mmyyy preciss" and "secrrets" there, 17 messy bits in all, heh heh heh.

02.20.25 - by Judith Levine - Poli Psy