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The quirks? I’m yellin’ at cows while thinkin’ this – escort’s a job, sure, but it’s raw, messy, human. Exaggeratin’ here, maybe, but picture this: some dolled-up gal struttin’ past my tractor, wavin’, me wonderin’ if she’s “on duty.” Hilarious, right? Sarcasm’s my fuel – “Oh, great, another soul saved by a quickie.” Little story – heard bout an escort in town, got busted cause she forgot to mute her phone mid-job. Cops heard everything. Dumbass move, made me cackle.

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First off, I hit the streets of Porthcawl, right? Walkin’ down John Street, I’m feelin’ the vibe. The smell of fish and chips waftin’ through the air. I mean, who doesn’t love that? But then, BAM! A seagull swoops down, like it’s on a mission. I swear it was targetin’ my chips. I ducked, like I was in some action movie. “Not today, bird!” I yelled. People stared. Whatever, right?

Plans to demolish former seafront pub in Porthcawl submitted