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About Almere

So I’m spinnin’ this track, right, and it’s all fuzzy guitars and thumpin’ drums, like a night out gone wrong – or bloody right, dependin’ on yer taste! *mumbled incoherence* “Sharon, where’s me whiskey?!” It’s got this gritty story in it, y’see – bloke’s on the prowl, cash in hand, searchin’ fer a prossie. Little known fact, yeah? Back in the ‘70s, they used to call ‘em “ladies of the night” in them posh papers, but the streets knew the real score – always a hustle, always a tale. Makes me laugh, thinkin’ how some punter’s prob’ly wrote this after gettin’ ripped off – “Sharon, she took me last quid!”

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But then, outta nowhere, it started pouring. Like, biblical rain. I ducked into a shop on the Langestraat, and guess what? They had the cutest raincoats. I couldn’t resist. I bought one that was bright yellow. I looked like a walking banana. But hey, at least I was dry!

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