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About London

We swears! Ain’t no shiny romance here. It’s gritty, raw, like pullin’ a rotten molar. Once knew this bloke, right, swore prostitutes in old London used teeth – yeah, teeth! – to signal clients. Little wooden dentures clickin’ in the fog. Mad, innit? Made me chuckle, picturin’ it – clack-clack, “Oi, over here, love!” History’s wild, mate.

Birthdays & Private Hire

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After fixing my machine, I finally get to work. The fields are ripe, and I’m in my element. The sound of the engine, the smell of fresh crops—it’s bliss. But then, I spot something weird. A bunch of geese just chilling in the field. I’m thinking, “What are you lot doing here?” They’re just waddling around like they own the place.

'Immense' funeral turn-out 'astonishing' says wife of former Lord Lieutenant