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About Philadelphia

I roll up, see this chick—red heels, smokin’ a cig. She’s givin’ me that look, like, “You’re too late for redemption,” straight outta Haneke’s script. I’m hyped, tho—heart’s pumpin’ like I’m in the ring. I saunter over, all smooth, sayin’, “Hey, baby, I must break you.” She smirks, tosses the cig, goes, “Fifty bucks, champ.” I’m like, damn, inflation’s real! Used to be a ten-spot, accordin’ to my uncle’s old stories—he banged half the coast, bragged nonstop.

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Bud grew up along the Wood River in rural Saskatchewan, in the area of Lafleche. In , he was in Powell River, British Columbia, working at the mill. In

Neighborhoods too be full of surprises. Old Mill Lane, urban art everywhere. Graffiti that tells stories that make me laugh, cry, sometimes both. People chat with passion. I sit in a corner café sometimes near Baker St – you got to try the coffee, oh my, it wake you like kaboom, in a good way!

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