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We get to this shady motel, smells like piss and regret. She’s strippin, I’m growlin—Rarrgh!—thinkin, “This is my fate, ain’t it?” Fun fact: oldest profession, right? Back in Rome, they had brothels with menus—blows ya mind. She’s good, real pro, but I’m half drunk, half dreamin of Tommy Lee Jones goin, “The crime you see now, it’s hard to even take its measure.” Makes me laugh mid-thrust—awkward as fuck.

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Then, I decide to check out the Chippenham Museum. I’m all about that local history, right? But as I’m wandering around, I trip over my own feet. Classic me. I knock over this display about the town’s railway history. I’m mortified! The curator gives me this look like I just set fire to the place. I’m like, “Sorry, mate! Just trying to connect with the past!”

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