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About Manchester

Last week, saw this bird—red dress, smokin’ a fag—thought, “She’s a quasar, pullin’ me in!” Asked her rate, she smirked—£50, quick job. Bargained like a nutter, got it to £40—felt like I cracked gravity! But then—anger hit—bloke nearby yelled at her, “You’re filth!” Made me mad, mate—who’s he to judge? “They’re all hypocrites,” like Grace said, hidin’ their own dirt. Hypocrisy’s denser than a neutron star, swear it.

SEX AND THE CITY

We had driven down the notorious “Ilford Lane strip” and spotted 13 sex workers in the space of a couple of minutes.

Bus finally rolls up, and it’s packed. I squeeze in, and it’s like a sauna in there. I’m stuck next to this guy who smells like he’s been marinating in garlic. I’m trying not to gag. But then, I spot a mate, Dave, at the back. I wave, and he’s like, “You good?” I’m like, “Yeah, just living the dream, mate!”

Labour wins Hainault by-election by just one vote