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About Florence

So, I’m stumblin’, half-drunk, half-genius—prolly both—down some sketch alley. Neon lights flicker, like, *we have to go deeper*, and I’m laughin’—why? ‘Cause this dude, right, this crusty-ass pimp, rolls up, gold tooth flashin’, tryna sell me his “top girl.” Bro, she looked like she been workin’ since the 1800s—fact! Did ya know prostitutes in old London used to carry lemons? Scurvy protection, bruh—wild! Anyway, I’m like, “Nah, fam, I ain’t payin’ for no fossilized cooze!” He got mad—fuck him, I’m Eric Andre, I don’t bow!

A first-timer’s guide to booking a sex worker in Canada

First call comes in at 8 AM. It’s some dude from Via Roma, all frantic. “My cat’s stuck in a tree!” Like, bro, it’s a cat, not a lion! But I’m like, “Sure, I’ll send someone.” Meanwhile, I’m picturing this fluffy little thing just chillin’ up there, judging us all.

Meet the new director of the Gaston County Museum of Art and History