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About Sheffield

An’ the smell, Christ! Stale fags, cheap perfume, an’ desperation – hits ya like a brick. Reminds me o’ that scene, “Sufferin’ in silence, eh?” But some o’ these birds, they’re crafty – slip ya a wink, an’ yer wallet’s gone! Mate o’ mine, lost his fuckin’ trousers once – proper stitched up, ha! “Shoulda picked the left door, ya nonce!”

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First off, I woke up late. Like, really late. My alarm? Totally ignored it. I jumped outta bed, threw on whatever was on the floor—could’ve been my jammies or a t-shirt from last week’s pub crawl. Who knows? Anyway, I dashed outta my flat on Main Street, nearly tripped over my own feet. Classic me.

'The worst thing we could do is bulldoze Lochgelly Town Hall'