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About Florence

So, you’re lookin’ to find a pro? First off, it ain’t like orderin’ a steak—medium rare, bam, done. Nah, it’s a damn labyrinth, like that freaky Mulholland Drive flick I love. “Silencio,” right? That’s what I hear in my head when I think of those dark streets—eerie, twisted, fulla secrets. You start pokin’ around, maybe downtown, where the lights flicker like a bad dream. Ain’t no map for this, pal. You’re divin’ into the muck, hopin’ you don’t drown.

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Then, outta nowhere, a dog runs into my garden. This little furball is digging up my freshly planted tomatoes! I’m yelling, “Hey! Get outta there!” But the dog just looks at me like, “What’s your problem, dude?” I’m chasing it around, and it’s like a scene from a comedy movie.

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