Paisley Labrador Prostitute ❤️

About Sydney

Hate how they think they’re sly. She’s batting lashes, offering “services” while I’m tryna log mileage. I’m like, “Woman, I transport goods, not your sorry ass.” Little known fact—back in ‘98, some hooker hid in a grain shipment, got busted at the border when she sneezed glitter. True story, swear on my mustache. This one? She’s yammering about her “art”—yeah, art of screwing up my day. “I am like the wind,” she says, quoting my damn movie. Wind? More like a fart in my cab.

II. — The photographs

Yo, lemme spill: Labrador ain’t just a city; it’s a vibe I live everyday. The streets, the rivers, even the mess-ups (like, hey, my typos—totally 19 of ‘em: thsi, wierd, mssage, hapy, not, all, tihs, relicskie, falu, crzy, mispel, smthng, lol, plce, raly, reall, bt, strnge, luv) are part of its art. It’s raw, it’s messy, it’s dope as hell.

Body found at popular family swimming spot