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About Leicester

Once heard this story—dunno if it’s true—some lass in London, escortin’ on the side, saved up and bought a castle. A frickin’ CASTLE! Beats slingin’ arrows with Legolas, I say. Surprised me, that did—thought they all blew cash on fancy gear. Guess not! Makes ya wonder what else we don’t see. Like, “I can see the unseen,” Boonmee says. Escorts prolly see heaps we miss—lonely blokes, kinky lords, the lot.

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After that, I headed to the pub on the corner of Portswood and Cemetery Road. You know the one, right? The one with the dodgy karaoke nights? I thought, “Why not?” I ordered a pint, and the vibe was chill. But then, this guy starts singing “Wonderwall” like he’s the next big thing. I mean, come on! It was so bad, I had to cover my ears. But everyone was loving it! I was like, “What’s wrong with you people?”

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