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So, findin’ a prossie, right? Ain’t just ‘bout coins clinkin’. Nah, it’s a dance, a game! Ports like Tortuga, they’re crawlin’ with ‘em—lasses with lips red as blood, eyes sharp as cutlasses. Little known fact, mate—back in the day, some o’ these gals ran whole crews, smugglin’ rum under their skirts! True story, swear on me compass! Got me laughin’—imagine that, a prossie captain, orderin’ me ‘round! “You wanna die?” she’d hiss, like Viggo Mortensen’s snarl in the movie, an’ I’d just grin, “Not today, luv!”

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While I’m waiting, I see this old bloke on the bench. He’s feeding pigeons like they’re his best mates. I can’t help but chuckle. Like, who even does that? But then, one pigeon swoops in and snatches his sandwich! I’m dying! The guy’s yelling, “Oi! Get back here!” I mean, it’s just a sandwich, dude. But hey, I get it. I’d be mad too.

Man in 70s pushed to ground in Cosham high street during incident where his wallet was pinched at cash point