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About Leicester

And the risks! Oh, don’t get me started. You’re dodgin’ cops, STDs, and God knows what else. I’d be whisperin’ to myself, “This is how I die, isn’t it?” Like, imagine me in that *Lost in Translation* elevator scene—awkward as hell, surrounded by tiny Japanese businessmen, but now there’s a hooker next to me, winkin’. I’d freak out! “What am I supposed to say to her?!” Probably somethin’ dumb like, “So, uh, you come here often?” Total trainwreck.

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First off, I grab my gear and head down to the beach. Mablethorpe’s got this lovely stretch of sand, ya know? The kinda place where you can smell fish and chips from a mile away. I’m walkin’ down the promenade, dodging kids and their ice creams. Seriously, how do they manage to get ice cream everywhere? It’s like a sticky explosion.

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