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About Buea

I’m chattin her up, tryna figure her deal. She’s dodgy—keeps it vague, like she’s hidin a Stasi file. “What’s your name, sweetness?” I ask, leanin in all Hannibal-style. “Candy,” she says, smirkin. Candy—ha! Bet that’s fake as my last paycheck. Makes me mad, tho—why lie? Just be real, damn it! But then she winks, and i’m like, “Alright, ya got me.” Happy as a kid with candy—ironic, huh?

Oh brothel, where art thou?

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I ain't perfect, mate – wandering these streets, I’ve spilled coffee on my own heart more times than I can count. I've seen smiles hide bleak tears, and anger erupt in street corners. It's raw and wild, and sometimes I get so pissed, I curse in a dozen languages – so many misprints, so many typos, it's maddening! Lemme be honest: I’ve typed 14 typos already, like "loev", "daam", "twlling", "mssing", "angryy", "thrty", "craezy", "scketch", "flwrs", "discret", "mryw", "blurrd", "shde", and "quikly".

Three charged with burglary and theft