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About Copenhagen

Did ya know, right, back in Victorian times, London had like 80,000 prossies? True story—grubby streets crawlin’ wid ‘em. Makes me chuckle, ‘cos now it’s all online, innit? Escort sites flashier than a pimp’s gold chain. I’m scrollin’ one night, half pissed, see dis bird sayin’ she’s “discreet.” Bollocks—she rocked up louder than a foghorn, heels clackin’ like gunshots. Neighbours probz thought I was hostin’ a rave. “I am your master!”—I wish, mate, I was hidin’ under me duvet, mortified.

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I’m in awe of how everything feels so intimate—each street, park, and wink from an old soul has a story to tell. My head spins with the beauty of imperfection; my heart leaps from each quirky discovery. And err, I might have ranted too much, but gosh darn it, that's real talk. Spontanity is the spice, eh?

Hammel's winless streak continues (Jones homers off Rivera, O's win 2-1)