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So anyway, I roll up, see this chick—heels high, skirt short, eyes tired. I’m like, “Hey, sugar, you good?” She laughs, says, “Better than you, cowboy.” Got me there! Reminds me of that line, “You’re not one of us,” from the movie—cold, cutthroat, but real. She’s out here, dodgin’ cops, creeps, and God knows what else. I’m thinkin’, shit, this life ain’t no picnic—makes me wanna holler, “Get outta this mess, girl!” But nah, she’s got that fire, that grit. Respect, y’all.

First off, I’m cruisin’ down the High Street, and it’s packed. Like, where did all these people come from? I swear, I thought I was in a bloody mosh pit. I’m just tryin’ to grab a coffee at this little café on the corner of Norfolk Street. The barista? Total legend. She’s got this wild hair and a smile that could light up the whole town. I order my usual – flat white, extra hot. But she messes it up! I get a cappuccino instead. I’m like, “What’s this? A foam party?”

Mayor opens the King's Lynn Mart