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About Hamilton

What trips me out? The money, yo! Top escorts pullin’ 5K a night, easy. That’s a stack taller than my blunt pile! But it ain’t all glitz, nah. Some pimp asshole takin’ half – that shit burns me up, fam. “You’re either livin’ or you’re dyin’,” like Malick said, and these hustlers? They livin’ fast, dodgin’ cops, clients trippin’. One story I heard – this chick in Vegas, right? Booked a whale, dude dropped 20K for a weekend, then ghosted. She was hyped, like, “Fo’ shizzle, I’m rich!” Next day? Bounced check. Man, I’d be pissed!

Ya see, I stroll down all these alleys and I feel the pulse of the city. From Parc Martial-Valois, bursting with trees and stray squirrels, to our beloved, murky Harricana River, where the mist flows at dawn. My massages, ohhh, they’ve felt the passion of every corner, my friend. I gave yer friend that “miraculous touch” on Rue des Aiguilles once, yes, my precious, while murmuring, “I’m free,” just like in that movie, or… something like that! It’s raw, it’s real, and oh so messy!

Trade Recap: Cote To Moncton, Leroux to Val-d'Or, Desjardins to Quebec