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Angry? Yeah, ‘cause it’s a meat market—humans sold like bacon. Happy? Never, not with this crap. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d say it’s like tradin’ yer soul for a quickie. Quirky thought—wonder if they’d take my wood carvings as payment. Prolly not, damn shame. Lookin’ for one’s risky too—cops, STDs, or some psycho with a knife. “The dead don’t care,” Saul’d whisper—prolly true for the johns too. Funniest bit? Guys think they’re kings ‘til the clap hits. Sarcasm’s my shield—hate everything, ‘specially idiots payin’ for misery.

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I tried to find a quiet spot, but no luck. I ended up sitting on a bench next to this old dude. He was feeding the ducks. I swear, he had a whole loaf of bread! I asked him, “Mate, you feeding the entire flock?” He just chuckled and said, “They’re my friends.” I mean, who am I to judge?

Altrincham and Tamworth share spoils on final day