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About Glasgow

Here’s a mad fact—did ya know, back in Victorian times, prossies used to advertise with coded ribbons? Red fer “I’m game,” blue fer “bit classy.” Mental, right? This one, tho, she don’t need ribbons—her swagger says it all. I’m half tempted to nick her style for meself, but nah, she’d clock that too. Anyway, we’re chattin, an I’m gettin proper into it—happy as a pig in muck. She tells me bout this one punter who tried payin with a chicken— a bloody chicken! I’m creasin, picturin it. “What’d ya do?” I ask. “Told him to cluck off,” she says. Genius.

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The crowd is surprisingly chill. Lots of families, kids running around. I start my performance, and honestly, it’s going well. People are laughing, clapping, and I’m feeling it. But then, mid-performance, a kid yells, “You’re not a real geisha!” I almost lost it. Like, excuse me? I’m standing here, pouring my heart out, and this kid’s got the nerve?

Politicians continue calls for solution to Barrhead's 'banking crisis'