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About Glasgow

So, real talk—where do you even start? Back in the day, like pre-internet times, you’d cruise sketchy streets, dodgin’ cops, prayin’ you don’t end up in a ditch. Fun fact: in old-school NYC, the meatpacking district—yeah, where all the fancy boutiques are now—used to be hooker central. Blows my mind! Now? It’s all digital, baby—apps, sites, coded ads. You’re scrollin’, thinkin’, “Is this legit or am I about to get catfished by some dude named Gary?” Makes me wanna scream—half the time I’m pissed at how shady it gets, half the time I’m laughin’ at the absurdity.

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Finally, the day winds down. I’m exhausted but happy. I stroll back down the High Street, feeling like I conquered the world. I stop by that pub on the corner of Oakdene Road. You know the one? The one with the weirdly good fish and chips? I grab a pint and sit outside, soaking it all in.

Queen guitarist Sir Brian May plays in pyjamas at Cobham shop