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About London

Still, I’d take an Escort over some poncy Tesla any day. It’s got soul, grit, a bit o’ snot an’ swagger. “I’m very sorry for your loss,” Genevieve’d say, but I ain’t mournin’ – I’m celebratin’ this scruffy legend. So there ya go, a beast worth watchin’, tearin’ through the wild, leavin’ tyre tracks an’ a whiff o’ petrol. Escort, ya mad lad, never change!

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I go see an escort due to stress, I walk away more stressed, and eventually I come back for more. It's a real battle trying to stop the cycle.

I rush over, dodgin’ the usual chaos. You know how it is. People everywhere, cars honkin’ like they’re in a race. I swear, if I see one more person on their phone, I’m gonna lose it. Anyway, I get to High Street, and it’s packed! Stalls everywhere, smellin’ like fresh bread and fish and chips. My stomach’s rumblin’ like a thunderstorm.

Israel continues to battle raging wildfires