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About Newcastle

So, last week, I’m prowlin’—growling, “You merely adopted the dark.”—and I spot this bird, all fishnets and attitude. Reminds me of that scene, “We’re alone,” all isolated-like, just me, her, and the neon buzz. I’m thinkin’, “Mate, she’s either a jackpot or a fuckin’ setup.” Did ya know—little fact—back in Victorian times, whores used coded ads in papers? “French lessons,” my arse—sneaky bastards. Anyway, I’m chattin’ her up, heart poundin’—fuckin’ thrilled, yeah? But then—bam—some geezer rolls up, all aggro, demandin’ cash. Pissed me right off! I’m like, “Oi, cunt, I ain’t your ATM!”

Crouch End man jailed for running sexual slavery ring

By the time I head home, I’m exhausted but happy. Crouch End, you’ve thrown me a wild ride today. From opera to pigeons to jammin’ in the park, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Just another day in the life of a guitar master, I guess!

Crouch End Clock Tower: a little history