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But—argh!—what gets me blood boilin’ is them prigs judgin’ ‘em. “A woman’s body is her own,” *Moolaadé* whispers, and I’m hollerin’ it loud! Why’s it fine fer a gent to swagger, but a lass gets the lash fer the same? Hypocrisy, mate—makes me wanna keelhaul the lot o’ ‘em! Once met this bloke, paid fer a night, then preached purity come mornin’. I near spat me rum—bloody cheek!

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First call of the day, some bloke from Bader Close. He’s all like, “My internet’s down!” I’m like, “Mate, it’s 8 AM. Can’t you just chill?” But nah, he’s losing his mind. I mean, c’mon, it’s not the end of the world! But I get it, right? No Netflix, no life. So, I’m tryin’ to help him out, but he’s just yelling about how he needs to stream his “important” shows. Like, dude, it’s not that deep.

'My last hurrah': Suffolk clergyman takes on one final job before retirement