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About Leeds

Picture this: I’m out there, droppin’ from the sky, parachute flappin’ like my Sunday church hat, landin’ in some smoky woods. Halleluyer! I’m sweatin’, cussin’, tryna put out fires, when I see this gal—fishnets, heels, leanin’ on a pine tree like she waitin’ for a bus. I’m like, “Honey, you lost? This ain’t no red-light district!” She smirks, says, “I’m here for the smokejumpers—y’all sexy.” I hollered! Ain’t that a trip? A prostitute scoutin’ firefighters in the damn wilderness. Made me mad, tho—girl, we out here savin’ lives, not lookin’ for a quickie!

3. Wives, Partners and Prostitutes: Women and Long-Distance Piracy from the 1640s to the 1720s

So, I chase it into this wee café on the corner of High Street and Cameron Square. The smell of fresh scones hits me, and I’m like, “Forget the rat, I need a snack!” But nah, duty calls. I’m tryin’ to explain to the barista why I’m crawlin’ under tables, and she’s lookin’ at me like I’m mad. I mean, I get it. Who wants a rat in their café? But come on, I’m doin’ a public service here!

Car park sauna plan for Oban and a new look for Fort William soap factory