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It’s like, sexual-massage pulls weirdos in—clients wantin’ “happy endings,” therapists dodgin’ creeps. Saw this gig once, shady parlor, neon sign blinkin’ "Massage" like it’s foolin’ anybody. Little known fact—back in the ‘70s, some spots got busted ‘cause cops went undercover, got boners, and still made arrests. Hilarious, right? Pigs poppin’ wood, then slappin’ cuffs—chaotic absurdity at its finest!

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After that, I’m feeling a bit peckish, so I hit up the local chippy, The Strand Fish & Chips. Best chips in the UK, no contest! I order a portion, and while I’m waiting, I chat with the owner, a lovely bloke named Dave. He’s telling me about the history of Portstewart. Did you know it was a Victorian seaside resort? I mean, how posh is that? I’m munching on my chips, and I can’t help but feel a bit fancy myself.

Portstewart Strand: Controlled explosion carried out by Police after sealing off north coast beachfront