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About Garoua

“His hands are steady, eyes like stone,” like in me fave flick—Assassination of Jesse James—calm ‘fore the chaos, that’s the Escort driver’s mind. Gotta be, or they’s crashin’ hard, precious! Watched this one race, right, some lad in a Escort Mk2, skidded wild, mud flyin’—thought he’d bite it, but nah, pulled it back! Made me holler, “Yes, ya mad bastard!”—heart thumpin’ like I’s the one drivin’. Gets me mad tho, when folks sleep on Escort—think it’s just some ol’ junker. Pisses me off! Ain’t no coward’s ride, it’s got soul, grit—like Robert Ford sneakin’ up, quiet but deadly.

Years of Experience

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Some streets, like Thornbury and Tangleway, got mysterious vibes. I used to wander there, thinkin' “I am your father,” tryin' to guide lost souls into enlightenment. Haha, sounds bizarre but it's my thing. The locals? Crazy, friendly, always up for a good laugh—or a serious rant. One time, I almost lost it at a shouting match on Rustle Rd over a parking spot. Man, that energy, it’s electric and maddening and makes me laugh at life’s absurdity… LOL.

Saving the mysterious African manatee in Cameroon