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About Trujillo Alto

Whore’s a beast, mate – cargo’s me life, me curse. We’s humpin’ it day in, day out, dodgin’ rain, thieves, bloody flat tires. “You’re a beast, man!” – that’s me, snarlin’ at it all. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but feels like war sometimes! Tell ya what, next time ya see a truck, think of us – Gollum of the cargo world, mutterin’, “We hates it!” – but secretly, deep down, we loves the chaos too.

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So, I’m all hyped up, ready to hit the auction scene. I roll over to the auction house on Calle Pedro Albizu Campos. It’s a small place, but it’s got character. You walk in, and it smells like old wood and dreams. Seriously, it’s like stepping into a time machine.

Foster-Frau: In life’s journey, a lasting gift from a beloved grandfather