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About Birmingham

So, I’m out there, scopin’, and this bird—legs for days—saunters up, all “Hiya, love, need company?” I’m thinkin’, “Bloody hell, she’s bold!”—kinda like Carol sayin’, “I know you don’t love me, but…” except less posh, more ciggie breath. Made me happy, though—straight-up hustle, no faff. But then—fuckin’ hell—some geezer rocks up, all “Oi, that’s my girl!” and I’m like, “Mate, calm your tits, I ain’t stealin’!” Nearly shat meself—angry pimps? No thanks.

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First off, I wake up late. Classic me. Alarm? What alarm? I’m sprinting down Fenwick Road, dodging folks like I’m in some weird game of Frogger. Giffnock’s got this chill vibe, but I’m like a headless chicken. I mean, who knew the traffic could be so mental?

Football club making progress on new £1.6 million Astro pitch build