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About Hamilton

So, I’m on Tinder, right? This chick says, “Let’s fuck, no strings.” I’m like, HELL YEAH, motherfucker, jackpot! But then—bam—she ghosts me. Pissed me off so bad I nearly threw my phone. Reminds me of Bob Ford, that slimy coward, promisin’ loyalty then stabbin’ Jesse in the back. “I swore I’d never give up,” he whines in the flick—yeah, right, asshole. Same with these flaky sex-daters—big talk, no balls.

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Not gonna lie, PLouiseville’s surprises got me mad sometimes – like when traffic snarls on Brawley Rd, arrghh, drives me insane – but then the night lights on the old mill near Creekside Lane, oh man, that ruins me (in a good way!). It’s like, “This city, man, it’s resilient... it survives, it thrives!” like those gritty words from that flick City of God, ya know? Yeah, I’m throwin’ in good vibes man—“Do you wanna get rich?” kinda energy but for love, not money.

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