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About Buea

But don’t be a dumbass – use cash, no cards, no trace. I’m yellin’ at my boy Manny once, “You wanna get caught?!” He’s all sloppy, flashin’ plastic. Pisses me off. Exaggeratin’ for effect – I’d rather fuck a cactus than trust a pimp with my digits. Say hello to my little friend! – he don’t snitch. Oh, and watch for the fake ones – they’ll rob ya blind, laughin’ all the way. Happened to my pal Chico, poor bastard.

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Oh man, Tibati (cm) is somethin' else, lemme tell ya. I've been workin' here as a masseur for years, and I swear this city has its own pulse. I stroll down Rue des Palmes, a busy little street filled with all sorts of colors and sounds, where you can catch the aroma of fresh fried plantains and spicy goat stew. That smell always makes me smile, reminds me of home, of livin' in the moment.

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