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Oi, mate, it’s me, Tyrion Lannister—witty as hell, “I drink and I know things.” So, you wanna talk findin’ a prostitute? Buckle up, coz I got thoughts—messy, loud, real ones! Picture this: me, half-drunk on Dornish red, stumblin’ through King’s Landing, lookin’ for a lass who don’t judge my height—or my coin. I’ve seen it all, from brothels smellin’ like roses to ones reekin’ of piss. Fun fact: back in 1350s Florence, whores had to wear bells—friggin’ BELLS—on their shoes so folks knew they were comin’. Imagine that jingle followin’ you down an alley, eh? Hilarious, but damn annoyin’ too.

London’s Red Light District Laid Bare

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Bus finally rolls up, and it’s packed. I squeeze in, and it’s like a sauna in there. I’m stuck next to this guy who smells like he’s been marinating in garlic. I’m trying not to gag. But then, I spot a mate, Dave, at the back. I wave, and he’s like, “You good?” I’m like, “Yeah, just living the dream, mate!”

Driver on the run after crashing car into a wall in Barkingside