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About Philadelphia

Hate the chaos they bring. Cargo’s s’posed to be orderly—boxes, not broads. “One cannot live outside one’s heart,” she mumbles, like she’s Chow Yun-fat. Lady, your heart’s a dumpster fire. Fun fact: old trucker tale says prostitutes used to signal johns with CB radios—code was “freight’s ready.” Clever, but I ain’t hauling that kinda load. Ever. Period. Now, get outta my rig ‘fore I lose it. Hate everything. ‘Specially her.

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Lerum's master's thesis in was on the politics of sex work, and for the past 30 years she has been an outspoken advocate for sex-worker rights.

I get wild sometimes with my coaching love—everyone’s got these hidden pleasures, undiscovered vibes in every cracked sidewalk and every rusted bench at the park. Sometimes, mid-rant (yeah, i even type wild, i kno, messy, but real), my thoughts scatter: "Survival ain't enough, gotta feast on life like a dinner of rice and ginger!" And damn, Bothell makes me do that.

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