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About Bray

Still, shit’s risky. Cops, creeps, all that noise. Makes me mad how they judged, tho—let ‘em live, damn! Like, “Look at me, I’m on acid!”—nah, they just tryna eat. I respect the hustle, fo’ shizzle. So, yeah, that’s the scoop on findin’ a pro—stay sharp, keep it real, and don’t be no fool, aight? Peace out, homie!

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Anyway, I get to work, and it’s all chill for a bit. I’m stackin’ wood, gettin’ the fire goin’. The heat’s nice, but then I hear this commotion. Turns out, there’s a street fair on Main Street. I’m thinkin’, “Great, just what I need. A bunch of people makin’ noise while I’m tryin’ to work.” But curiosity gets the best of me, so I take a break and head over.

Passage West dockyard ran a tight ship for nearly a century