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About London

Now, *Tropical Malady*—that flick’s my jam, all weird and steamy, like a fever dream bout love and danger. Findin a prostitute’s kinda the same—“A strange love, a hidden wound.” You’re out there, heart racin, wonderin if it’s worth it. Spoiler: half the time, it ain’t. I mean, y’all ever tried hagglin with some streetwise pro? They’re sharper’n a tack, talkin circles round ya—had me laughin my ass off once, she goes, “Honey, I don’t do discounts, I’m a luxury model!”

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So, I finally park up near Eston Square. It’s a bit of a dodgy area, but hey, it’s home. I hop out, and the smell of fish and chips hits me. Can’t resist, right? I grab a portion from that little chippy on the corner of Eston Road. Best in town, no cap. I’m munchin’ away, feelin’ all good, when I see this old bloke, right? He’s tryin’ to cross the road, but he’s movin’ slower than a snail on a Sunday stroll. I’m thinkin’, “C’mon, mate, you’re not a statue!”

Plans for £19m Eston swimming centre approved