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About Newcastle

Oi, so yer wanna hear bout them prostitutes, eh? Me, Cersei Lannister, cold as ice, sittin’ here sippin’ my wine, thinkin’ bout them whores strutten’ round King’s Landing like they own it. Disdain? Oh, I got buckets of it. “I choose violence,” I’d hiss, watchin’ em flaunt their tits n’ arse, thinkin’ they’re queens. Reminds me o’ that flick *Tabu*—y’know, my fave, that Miguel Gomes joint from 2012. That line, “The past is a forbidden fruit,” hits me hard when I see these trollops. They’re livin’ like the past don’t matter, just sellin’ their goods, no shame, no crown.

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There's this hidden alley off Orchard St. that few know. Not much to look at, just spray-paint and heartaches, but it's art in its raw form. I’ve spent hours there, speakin' softly to myself and the shadows—I learned secrets that make me mad and happy all at once. Its charm’s just brutal, as brutal as a midnight kiss under the full moon in a Jim Jarmusch flick.

Comancheros bikie gang leader Vincenzo Focarelli survives ambush