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About Leeds

I roll up, shades on, feelin like a champ. This chick struts over—legs for days, skirt shorter than a jobber’s career. “What’s your name?” I growl, all Hulkster bravado. She’s like, “Does it matter?” Ha! Cold as ice, brother! Made me laugh, but also pissed me off—gimme somethin to work with, lady! I’m thinkin, “I lie to myself all the time,” like in *Memento*. Am I even here for this? Brain’s spinnin.

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I finally get to the cemetery on Claremont Road, and it’s a right mess. The wind’s howlin’, and the sky’s lookin’ moody. Perfect for a funeral, right? I’m tryin’ to keep it together, but the whole scene is just... intense. I mean, I’m here to mourn, but the weather’s like, “Nah, let’s make this dramatic!”

Senior royals join thousands in London as VE Day commemorations begin