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About Newcastle

Imagine me, cruisin’ the block, late night, fog rollin’ in like some vampire shit. I’m tryna find a prostitute, right? Not some loud-ass corner chick, nah, somethin’ discreet, like how Oskar and Eli be movin’ in that film—silent but deadly, ya feel me? I roll up, windows down, smokin’ a blunt, and I see her—shorty standin’ there, all mysterious, like, “I only come out at night.” I’m like, damn, she got that *Let the Right One In* energy, yo!

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After that, I thought I’d check out the local market on the weekend. It’s always buzzing with life. I found this stall selling homemade sausages. I mean, come on! I’m a swineherd! I had to buy some. The guy was all, “These are the best in Penarth!” I was like, “You better not be lying!” But they were legit. I could’ve eaten the whole lot right there.

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