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About Birmingham

Ayy, so I’m cruisin’ down the block, right? Lookin’ to find a prostitute, ya know, the usual Tony Soprano night. Gabagool? Ova here! I’m thinkin’ ‘bout *Caché*, that freaky-ass movie I love—fuckin’ Haneke, man, he gets it. “Someone’s watchin’ me,” I mutter, like Georges in the flick, paranoid as shit. Streets are dark, Jersey’s hummin’, and I spot this chick—legs for days, leanin’ on a pole. I’m like, “Who’s this broad? She real or what?”

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So, I wandered down to the River Clyde. It’s pretty, right? But then I saw this guy trying to fish. He was all serious, like he was about to catch the Loch Ness Monster or something. I couldn’t help but chuckle. I mean, dude, it’s just a river in Lanark, not some magical fishing spot. But hey, you do you, buddy.

Southmains Shorthorn realises top prize at Lanark Spring Show and Sale