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About Leeds

So, I’m strollin’, right, lookin’ for a bird who’s up for it. Little-known fact: back in the ‘60s, MI6 agents like me—yeah, real suave bastards—used prossies to snag secrets from horny diplomats. True story! This one time, I spot her—legs for days, skirt so short it’s basically a belt. “Shaken, not stirred,” I mutter, sidlin’ up. She’s all, “Wotcha want, love?” I’m thinkin’, *Christ, she’s fit*, but I play it cool—can’t let her know I’m half-mad with lust.

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First off, I hit up The Strand for brekkie. You know, the usual – full English, beans, toast, the works. But guess what? The café was packed! I mean, come on, it’s a Tuesday! I had to wait like 20 mins just to get a table. I was fuming. Like, who knew Exmouth was the breakfast hotspot?

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